Rank Yourself Last
by viridiansky
Summary: [Time Travel] Shuichi is certain that if he ever gave Bourbon the opportunity, he would be dead in minutes - if not seconds. Especially now that he's not just the man who killed Bourbon's best friend, but an Organization traitor as well. Which is why he's rather confused when he finds Bourbon calmly sitting in Shuichi's hotel room, reading a book.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

 **This got out of hand so I'm dividing it in two parts. I'll try to get the second part done in the next couple weeks, but I hope you enjoy this in the meanwhile \o/**

* * *

Rank Yourself Last

* * *

Part 1

* * *

Bourbon whirls back into Shuichi's life in the last way he expects.

To be honest though, he wasn't entirely sure what he _had_ expected. Seeing him through the scope of his sniper rifle moments before he pulled the trigger? Watching him be put behind bars for the crimes he had committed in the Organization?

(Once in a while, he even humoured his vague suspicions that Bourbon was like him and wondered if he might see Bourbon try to put _Shuichi_ behind bars.)

But regardless, Shuichi didn't expect to walk into his hotel room one evening to see Bourbon.

Perhaps it would've been less surprising if Bourbon was pointing a gun at him, expression cold and mocking. But he isn't. Instead, he's sitting in the chair by the window with his legs crossed, calmly reading a book. He looks just as prim as Shuichi remembers him, wearing a trim black suit vest and matching pants.

It's been only a couple weeks since Shuichi's landed in Japan, chasing after Vermouth and trying to fulfill Akemi's last request. He's a little tired at the moment thanks to an annoying bus jacking incident that afternoon - he really doesn't want to deal with Bourbon right now.

He just wishes he had the choice not to.

"...Bourbon," he says calmly. His hand moves to his waist automatically, but there's no pistol there for him to take out.

He could really use one, but unfortunately getting his sniper rifle into Japan had been hard enough. The sniper rifle in question is in its bag, lying on the ground near Bourbon - but even if it was closer to Shuichi, it would've been useless to him in the close quarters of the room.

Shuichi would just have to rely on his Jeet Kune Do. Bourbon would inevitably have a gun, but Shuichi knew many ways to disarm an armed opponent.

He narrows his eyes at Bourbon, body tense. But Bourbon just smiles and snaps his book closed, placing it on the small table in front of him with a thump. Then, languorously, utterly casually, he uncrosses his legs and stands up.

"Akai," Bourbon says, holding his hands up and smiling in an innocent manner. "No need to act like that. I'm just here to talk."

Shuichi doesn't buy it.

(And hearing 'Akai' fall from Bourbon's lips so naturally just feels so _wrong_ , throws him off-kilter, and maybe that's why Bourbon used it instead of the 'Rye' he must be more used to.

He can't trust Bourbon period, but he especially can't trust him when he's clearly trying to manipulate Shuichi's reactions.)

"Somehow I doubt you're here 'just to talk'," Shuichi says grimly, "I know how much you resent me, Bourbon."

Bourbon may have done his best to hide the reason for his animosity towards Shuichi, but he's fairly certain that the trigger for the hatred was Scotch's death. And if that was so, considering that Bourbon was under the firm impression that Shuichi had killed Scotch and there was no way he could know otherwise, Bourbon must still hate him deepl-

"I know that Scotch killed himself."

-or not.

"How?" Shuichi demands, letting some of his surprise leak into his voice.

Bourbon was a talented investigator, yes, perhaps even the best in Japan, but in all their time in the Organization together after Scotch's death, he hadn't shown any signs of figuring it out. Too blinded by the pain of Scotch's death, or perhaps too blinded by his hatred for Shuichi himself. Shuichi can't imagine what could've possibly triggered this one-eighty in attitude.

Especially since the last time they met, it was when Bourbon had told Shuichi that he believed that he was a spy for the FBI and had told Gin that much.

"You just told me," Bourbon responds, and ah, there's that smug look Shuichi remembers so well even after all these years.

"You came to talk on suspicion alone?" asks Shuichi, not letting his guard down. The Bourbon he knew was always quite emotional when it came to certain things, certain people. It didn't make sense for Bourbon to calmly come visit Shuichi out of suspicion alone.

"Oh, I had other evidence too," Bourbon says dismissively, waving a hand. "But you just gave me confirmation."

"...I can't imagine that was the only reason you decided to 'just talk' with an Organization traitor, Bourbon."

Looking perfectly calm, Bourbon flicks a light strand of hair out of his eyes. He smiles. "You're correct, Akai. I'm also here about your _lover_."

Shuichi pauses, his lips twisting down a little, because if he didn't know better, he would think Bourbon was talking about his ironic nickname for Gin. Write it as enemy, read it as lover, so Shuichi would never forget what that silver-haired bastard had done to Akemi. But he had only ever mentioned the nickname out loud to Jodie a few times - he can't imagine how Bourbon would know about it.

The other possibility was Akemi herself, of course, but not only was she dead, they hadn't been real 'lovers' for years. Shuichi can't imagine why Bourbon would be talking about her, after all this time.

(His mind reminds him that Akemi's body was too badly burnt to be really identified. But Shuichi smothers the thought like he always does, because stupid hopes could be deadly in his line of work. Akemi had no allies - how could she have faked her death?)

So Shuichi asks, "Gin?", half-doubting himself even as the words leave his mouth.

"What do you think?" responds Bourbon mildly, and that was proof enough that it _was_ about Gin.

How the hell had Bourbon learnt about his nickname for Gin? Did he have contacts in even the FBI?

He must've let some of his worry sneak onto his face, because Bourbon laughs and says, "What's with that expression? I'm here to help, FBI."

"Why would you help the FBI?" demands Shuichi, a note of disbelief to his voice.

"I'm here to help _you_ , not the FBI," corrects Bourbon. An unreadable expression flickers over his face. "When I said 'FBI', that was just a nickn-" Bourbon pauses, glancing to the side. "Never mind."

Shuichi frowns a bit at that, but in the end, simply asks, "Why would you help _me,_ then?"

"Call it an apology, for chasing after you for something you didn't do," Bourbon suggests, and if that wasn't a lie Shuichi would shoot himself with his own sniper rifle.

"Regardless of whether I killed Scotch, I was - I am still a traitor to the Organization," Shuichi says calmly, "Try again, Bourbon."

Bourbon just sighs. "In that case - does it matter?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I think you'll trust in the information I give you enough to make a move," Bourbon explains, smiling. "So I don't care to convince you of my sincerity when I doubt you'd believe me no matter what I said. You've never needed perfect belief to make a move, no?"

"What do you know about me?" Shuichi says flatly, and truthfully. Bourbon knew little of Rye, and nothing of him. He didn't know how much Bourbon had investigated into him, but the way Bourbon was talking like he actually knew him made him want to laugh.

"Perhaps nothing," says Bourbon quietly, closing his eyes for a moment and looking surprisingly melancholic for some reason. His eyes blink back open, and he continues, "But like I said, it doesn't matter. I'm here to give you information. That's all. What you do with it, that's on you, Akai Shuichi."

Bourbon picks his book up from the small table and flips through it at a swift pace. When he reaches the end, he rips out a page and throws it to the bed, letting it slowly flutter down.

"There's an address on that paper," Bourbon explains, gesturing towards the page. "Your _lover_ will be there all day tomorrow. Go alone or with a whole squad of FBI agents, it's no skin off my back whatever you do, but I will warn you - if you don't go alone, if you don't make sure you aren't quiet about it, the only person who'll live to regret it is you."

Bourbon claps his book back closed and slips it in a pocket before beginning to walk towards Shuichi - no, the doorway. Without really thinking about it, Shuichi blocks Bourbon's way out with an outstretched arm.

He stops and lets out an exasperated sigh, looking up at Shuichi with an irked expression. Shuichi meets the gaze levelly.

"This is an obvious trap," Shuichi says frankly.

"If you say so," Bourbon responds mildly, a foot tapping impatiently. "But again, it doesn't matter to me whatever you do. If you don't go, you don't go. Could you let me leave now?"

Shuichi lets out a short laugh and leans in closer to Bourbon's face. His voice amused, he asks, "What's stopping me from arresting you here and now, Bourbon?"

" _Well,_ " Bourbon starts, suddenly sounding surprisingly venomous. "There's the obvious, of course, like the fact you're an American FBI agent operating illegally in Japan like it's your own country without so much as a by-your-leave from the local law enforcement. You have _zero_ jurisdiction here and no right to make arrests."

Alright, Bourbon is technically telling the truth there, but Shuichi doesn't want to hear it from a high-ranking member of an international criminal organization.

"And there's the second thing, of course," continues Bourbon, venomous tone suddenly pasted over with sickly sweetness. Hearing a click, Shuichi glances down and dammit, Bourbon's unexpected passiveness had made him let his guard down. "I have a gun."

Shuichi raises his hands high in the air and takes a few steps back. He _can_ try to disarm Bourbon, but it isn't as if Bourbon is a pushover. He isn't sure he can do it without getting injured, and the risk isn't worth it if Bourbon doesn't intend to fight.

Bourbon is high-ranking enough to get a codename, yes, but he's still only middle-ranked among codenamed operatives - unless he had gotten a promotion since Shuichi left the Organization, he supposes. But regardless, unlike other operatives, Bourbon had _some_ respect for life.

(Perhaps due to teaming up with a pair of NOCs so much, or perhaps…)

The point was that letting him leave was much less dangerous than letting say, Vermouth leave.

"I'm not falling for your trap," Shuichi tells him.

"Not my problem," Bourbon responds, keeping his pistol aimed at Shuichi's head as he slowly inches backwards to the door. "See you later, Akai."

Bourbon slips behind the door in a split second, the door slamming loudly behind him. The moment it closes, Shuichi runs towards it, intending to try to tail him if nothing else. But no matter how much he jiggles the doorknob, the door doesn't open. Bourbon must've jammed it closed somehow.

Swearing under his breath, Shuichi considers breaking the door open, but Bourbon would be long gone by the time he got through. There would be no point.

Instead, after phoning the front desk to tell him that his door had gotten jammed somehow, he sits at the edge of his bed and picks up the paper Bourbon gave him. He flips it over first just in case, but the back is blank.

He flips it back over to examine the address. There's a room or unit number included, so it's probably an office building. Fishing out his phone, he plugs it into a maps app to see where it is.

When the app finishes loading, he swears.

It isn't an office building.

It's an apartment building smackdab in the middle of a residential area, minutes away from an elementary school.

* * *

In the end, despite what he said to Bourbon, Shuichi goes alone.

He understands it's somewhat reckless. He did send Jodie a message telling her that he was investigating a lead at the location in question, so if things went wrong somehow, _someone_ would know where he was. Still, he was going out to a location an active Organization member told him to go to.

But stupid as it is, he still has a bit of trust in Bourbon - and he still has quite the bone to pick with Gin.

Of course, Shuichi hasn't lost his senses. He doesn't entirely trust that Bourbon wouldn't still kill him, even now that Bourbon knows the truth about Scotch's death. He doesn't trust that Bourbon had anyone's best interests in mind but his own. But what he does trust is that Bourbon had something of a moral fiber.

If Gin was hanging out in a residential area near an elementary school for an countless innocents could be in danger. Countless children. It was natural that even Bourbon couldn't let that stand.

And if Bourbon wanted him dead, wanted to torture him, there was no need for him to do something in such a roundabout way. Even if Bourbon had hoped that Shuichi would trust him and come alone, he had no guarantees that Shuichi would. Furthermore, Bourbon had snuck into his hotel room. It would've been child's play for Bourbon to have set up something to knock him out and capture him. Frankly, Bourbon had all the cards – what would be the point in tricking Shuichi further?

Bourbon had a nasty streak, sure, but that nasty streak had never stopped Bourbon from being logical (about most things.) If Bourbon had wanted revenge on Shuichi, there should've been many more reliable plans he could've executed with the knowledge of where Shuichi slept.

So Shuichi trusts in Bourbon's information and his warning to come alone. The situation was probably just that delicate. Unfortunately, he just isn't quite sure what Bourbon expects him to _do_. He is just one man, as skilled as he is.

To start out with, he's planning to scout out the place with his sniper rifle from a nearby apartment building. But his hazy plans dissipate like the mist soon after he gets off his train - because when he exits the station closest to the apartment building, a soft, familiar voice calls out from behind him.

"Dai-kun."

Shuichi _freezes_ in the middle of the sidewalk, because he knows that voice. Knows that voice intimately, even though it's been years since he last heard it.

Turning around, the all-too-nostalgic sight of Miyano Akemi makes him see red for a moment, because Akemi is _dead_ and _gone_ and how _dare_ this person disguise themselves as her.

The disguise is good though, Shuichi has to admit. She looks different from how Shuichi remembers her, but still similar enough to be recognizable if you knew what you were looking for. Her hair is cut into a neat shoulder-length bob dyed the same light brown as her little sister, her bangs tucked under a red beret. Her eyes are shielded behind a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses that hide her features fairly well, but not well enough.

Shuichi realizes he's been staring too long when someone walking around him shoots him a dirty glare. Right, he'd better take this confrontation somewhere a little less out in the open.

He walks up to 'Akemi' in a few swift steps and grabs her by the arm. She lets out a yelp, but doesn't resist as Shuichi drags her into a nearby alleyway.

Shuichi pushes her against a concrete wall, slamming his hand above her. 'Akemi' stares up with a surprised look at Shuichi's cold glare.

"Who are you?" Shuichi demands viciously, eyes narrowed. "Akemi is dead."

'Akemi' lets out a small, disappointed sigh and glances downwards for a moment. Finally, she looks back upwards with a sad look in her eyes that Shuichi is decidedly unmoved by.

"He did say you wouldn't believe it was me, but I still thought you would be able to tell," she says quietly. She lets a small smile quirk up her lips before continuing, "But I guess that's just the way you are, Dai-kun."

She takes a breath and narrows her eyes, looking determined.

"The night before you told me you were an FBI agent, we got into a silly argument," 'Akemi' states, and Shuichi's mouth falls open just a little bit. "I asked you to buy some milk on your way home, but you got distracted and all you bought was a pack of cigarettes. I got annoyed, because it was the _fourth_ time something like this had happened in the past month and I couldn't understand what was so hard about a simple errand. I eventually forgave you because you told me the reason why you kept on forgetting was because you kept on getting distracted by thoughts of me."

'Akemi'… _Akemi_ stares up at him, looking hopeful. Shuichi stares back, expression carefully blank.

Shuichi wracks his mind, trying to think of ways that _anyone_ other than Akemi and himself could know that story with that level of detail. He supposes someone could've bugged her apartment, but part of that argument had been out in the hallway, metres away from the apartment door. Not to mention, he had said enough vaguely incriminating things in that apartment that if it were bugged, he would've been outed as a spy long before that botched operation.

"How?" Shuichi finally breathes, stumbling back from Akemi. In disbelief, he takes in Akemi's soft eyes, her brown jacket, the light smile still on her face.

"I'll explain everything," Akemi promises, and the blindingly bright smile on her face makes Shuichi's mind go a little blank. "But maybe we should head to my apartment first?"

Shuichi lets out a small laugh and glances around at the scruffy alleyway they stood in.

"Yes, of course," Shuichi says agreeably, and so when Akemi flashes another smile at him and begins walking out the alleyway, he follows.

The walk to Akemi's apartment goes by like a blur. Before he knows it, he's sitting on a sofa in her living room across from Akemi herself, close enough he could reach a hand out above the coffee table to touch her if he wanted. The room is brightly lit by the sunlight pouring in from the veranda windows, giving it a rather cheerful atmosphere Shuichi feels is rather fitting.

He really wants to light a cigarette especially after everything he had just been told, but Akemi had always hated it when he smoked inside, and so he holds back the urge.

Akemi's explanation of what had happened to her makes as much sense as anything else Bourbon had done this past day – that is, none.

Bourbon apparently first approached her while she was planning her bank robbery (and he still couldn't really believe that Akemi had done that, but it wasn't as if he had any right to judge) to warn her that Gin had no intention of letting her or her sister escape the Organization. But Akemi refused to believe Bourbon's warning and went forwards with her plan, only to be immediately arrested by the police moments after she entered the bank. Someone – presumably the Organization – had tipped them off.

While she was stuck in jail with her colleagues, waiting for her trial, Bourbon snuck into the police station somehow to approach her again. He let her listen to an audio clip of Gin talking about setting a bomb to kill her while she was imprisoned, which was more than enough to convince her this time of the danger. He told her bluntly that she could go die or come with him. Naturally, she agreed to the latter.

And so, Bourbon successfully faked her death using Gin's bomb as camouflage, then helped set her up with a new identity in this town.

There were a few things that bothered him about the plan Akemi had described, such as where in the world Bourbon had gotten a dead body to replace Akemi and how the hell he had managed to get the bomb to go off and only cause property damage, but well, there was a bigger issue.

The _why_.

Akemi mentioned that Bourbon said that he was paying back a debt he had to Akemi's mother, but Shuichi doubted he would go to such lengths just out of a sense of obligation.

Fine. Bourbon thought up a convoluted plan to fake Akemi's death. It had obviously worked with most of the Organization, because that bastard Gin wouldn't bother with this kind of manipulation. He would just kill Akemi, then kill Shuichi, and if he knew Bourbon had done something like this, he would kill Bourbon too.

The thing that worried him was that Bourbon had the type of personality to _love_ this kind of manipulation. To give him a moment of happiness by letting him meet Akemi again, then leak his location to Gin or some operative to get him killed right when he had a real reason to live again. It would explain why Bourbon hadn't tried a more reliable method of killing him.

But Bourbon had approached him yesterday by telling him that he knew the truth behind Scotch's death. He shouldn't have much of a personal reason to hold a grudge against Shuichi anymore. Except, Shuichi supposes, for his betrayal of the Organization, but it wasn't as if Bourbon had ever been a doggedly loyal member either. He had always struck Shuichi as being more into it for his own amusement more than anything else.

Unless… could his confrontation with Bourbon yesterday have been a test? Had he saved Akemi in case Shuichi _had_ killed Scotch after all, and he wanted to get proper revenge?

Or perhaps Shuichi was reading too much into it. Maybe Bourbon just wanted Shuichi to owe him something. And saving Akemi was admittedly a debt Shuichi could never repay.

Shuichi lets out a small sigh. He's just about to ask Akemi something else – he doesn't know what, exactly, but the novelty of being able to actually _talk_ with her, see her, still hasn't worn off – when a familiar voice calls out from the hallway leading to the front entrance.

"My my, Akai, you shouldn't think so hard. You only have so many brain cells."

Shuichi's head shoots up to turn towards the hallway entrance. Bourbon stands there, hand lightly touching the wall and a smirk on his face. Surreptitiously, Shuichi slips a hand into his pocket to tap a few buttons on his cellphone.

"Bourbon-san!" Akemi exclaims in surprise, no suspicion or worry in her voice.

"...Bourbon," Shuichi greets, tone decidedly more guarded. He grimaces slightly, feeling conflicted.

He- he doesn't know how he can ever repay Bourbon for saving Akemi. But at the same time, Bourbon must know that. And Shuichi dreads to think of what Bourbon might expect from him in return for letting him and Akemi meet again - and what he might do when Shuichi refuses, because no matter his gratitude he would never help the Organization because of it.

Shuichi needs to take Akemi out of Bourbon's grasp as soon as possible.

Bourbon lets his hand drop from the wall and meanders closer to the two of them. He comes to a stop in front of the coffee table and glances at Shuichi only to let out a sigh.

He asks, voice mocking, "What's with that expression, Akai? Don't I get a 'thank you' for letting you meet your _lover?_ "

Shuichi just narrows his eyes.

Though Bourbon's comment reminds him - yesterday, when he asked if Bourbon had meant Gin when he said 'lover', Shuichi assumed the answer was yes when Bourbon gave a non-answer, but...

"Yesterday, when you said you were there about my 'lover'…" says Shuichi carefully.

Bourbon lets out a disturbingly bright laugh and says, "Yes, I thought you would think of Gin, but well," and here, Bourbon shrugs, "I didn't think you would believe me about Miyano-san unless you saw her standing in front of you in the flesh. And likely not even then, at least not at first."

Shuichi is a little relieved that Bourbon doesn't think that he actually considers Gin his lover, but also a little disturbed because of the implications it had for FBI security. He's certain that Jodie isn't a traitor, but he would have to ask her who she had told about Shuichi's nickname for Gin. Hopefully they would be able to figure out where the leak was coming from.

Bourbon leans in closer to Akemi, hands clasped behind his back, and flashes her an amused smile. In a stage whisper, he asks, "Hey, Miyano-san, has Akai told you about his nickname for Gin?"

"Wait, Bourbon –" Shuichi tries to cut Bourbon off, but to no avail.

"Write it as enemy and read it as lover," Bourbon quotes, chuckling, and Shuichi's eyes widen. "Isn't it lame?"

Shuichi… has only ever used that exact phrasing in the confines of his own head. It has to be a coincidence, though. It isn't as if that phrasing is exactly uncommon in Japanese.

"Maybe a little," Akemi says, letting out a small laugh. She gives Shuichi a fond look, "But I think it's cute."

"Oh, I see," Bourbon says, voice as bright as ever. He straightens himself back up, not a hair out of place. But Shuichi doesn't miss the slight narrowing of Bourbon's eyes and the imperceptible tightness of his lips.

Bourbon doesn't let his displeasure show any further, however. He simply turns his haughty gaze towards Shuichi and says, "I'm still waiting on that thank you, Akai."

"Why did you save her?" Shuichi asks instead.

"Tch, you've always been an ungrateful bastard," Bourbon says, clicking his tongue. "Fine then, you don't have to thank me. Don't misunderstand me, it's not like I did it for you. I saved Miyano-san because I owe something to Elena-san. That's all."

So he was sticking with that story. Shuichi narrows his eyes at Bourbon, but before he can say anything else, Bourbon lets out a loud, exasperated sigh.

"Do I have to walk you through _everything,_ Akai?" Bourbon demands, a scowl on his face. "I know you're not stupid, so use that stupid brain of yours. Did meeting Miyano-san fry your brain cells?"

Hadn't Bourbon just greeted him by telling him to not think too hard because he was stupid? Bourbon really needed to make up his mind.

Oh right, Bourbon did always have this habit of switching from his usual cold and haughty personality to this hotheaded demanding one if he got annoyed enough. Shuichi had forgotten how much of a pain Bourbon could be at times.

(He couldn't help the feeling of nostalgia welling up in him though. He hasn't seen Bourbon act like this since Scotch died and they stopped really working together.)

"Bourbon-san…" Akemi says, sounding disapproving.

"Aha, I'm sorry, Miyano-san," Bourbon says, smiling at her. Smile fading, he looks back towards Shuichi and continues, voice serious, "Akai. Doing this was dangerous."

Shuichi raises an eyebrow. Well, obviously, it was dangerous to fake Akemi's death, to hide her from the Organization, and to get in contact with an FBI agent. If the Organization found out about what he did - about _anything_ he did, really - his reasoning wouldn't matter – he'd be killed. Which meant...

"You're saying that your motives don't matter," Shuichi muses.

"Exactly," Bourbon replies, crossing his arms. He smirks. "Took you long enough."

"Sorry, what are you two talking about?" Akemi asks, glancing between the two of them with a confused look.

"The Organization would kill Bourbon for tricking them no matter his motives," Shuichi explains, " _However._ That assumes this isn't just an Organization plan that you're carrying out."

"Akai," Bourbon starts, sounding awfully unimpressed, "Has the Organization _ever_ permitted a traitor to live, no matter the reason?"

Alright, he did have a point there. But if this had been a plan to kill another traitor, namely himself… no, that wouldn't make sense either. Obviously Bourbon knew exactly where he was since he had snuck into his hotel room yesterday, so using Akemi to lure out himself would be meaningless.

This… this was almost definitely something Bourbon had done on his own. And if that was the case – it would be alright to trust Bourbon about this specific thing, right?

"Alright," Shuichi says finally, meeting Bourbon's eyes. He slips a hand back into his pocket to tap some buttons on his cellphone again. "I don't believe you're telling the truth about your motives, but your logic is sound. I'll tell you now though, I've recorded this entire conversation, and my cellphone automatically sends its data to a number of my FBI colleagues if I don't input a certain code into it for a certain period of time."

It also sent its data to his laptop once every hour, but Bourbon didn't need to know that part. Paranoia was key for a spy, even a former one.

"I'd expect nothing less," Bourbon says, unfazed. "Anyways, Akai, I saved Miyano-san because of a personal debt, but I didn't let _you_ meet Miyano-san out of the goodness of my heart."

"You want a favour," Shuichi says grimly. Perhaps it had been as simple as that after all.

"Oh, don't look so worried, it's nothing you wouldn't really want to do anyways," Bourbon says, a light smile on his face. "I want you to take responsibility for faking Miyano-san's death."

"What?" Shuichi says in slight surprise, eyes blinking once, twice.

"Miyano-san," Bourbon begins, turning towards Akemi. "I don't regret saving you. I would do it again. However, I must apologize but the fact of the matter is that you are a liability to me. What I want is to wash my hands of this matter. To be able to pretend that all of this had nothing to do with me – that instead, Akai was the mastermind."

"Bourbon-san, everything you've done for me and- for me is amazing," Akemi says sincerely, "I'm not offended that you don't want to cover for me any longer. But Dai-kun, I don't want to trouble you either. I – I can figure out something myself."

"Needing help sometimes doesn't make you helpless, Miyano-san," Bourbon says quietly, voice uncharacteristically kind in a way that makes Shuichi stare. Bourbon laughs and glances to the side. "I know that might seem strange coming from me of all people, but someone told me that once, and I will say I did listen to their advice in the end."

Shuichi manages to spot a flash of something dark, something painful flickering over Bourbon's face before it disappears under a composed mask.

"Though unfortunately, I don't believe they would offer me their help anymore," Bourbon says quietly. His hands are fidgeting, his right hand running over the fingers of his left - but was he actually nervous about being candid with his feelings or was this just part of an act to get Akemi to do what he wanted?

Act or not, Shuichi glances down, feeling heavy. He still regrets what happened with Scotch. It doesn't really leave him.

"I…" Akemi says hesitantly. He hears the sound of fingers nervously tapping on a thigh.

Shuichi looks back up.

"Akemi, the FBI and I will be more than happy to help," Shuichi says firmly. leaning across the table. Giving her a small smile, he places his hand over Akemi's, stopping her tapping. "You don't have to do this alone anymore."

Akemi lets out a small sigh and smiles a little helplessly back at Shuichi.

"Alright," she murmurs quietly. Shuichi leans back to his seat, feeling relieved – but then her gaze hardens. She continues, "But I'm not going into the Witness Protection Program."

"What!?"

"Dai-kun, I just met you again," says Akemi, looking stubborn. "I'm staying in Tokyo. I'm not leaving you or- you again. And Bourbon-san taught me basic disguise, I can protect myself – I only look like this right now because you needed to recognize me."

It wasn't as if Shuichi wanted to separate either, but he would much prefer Akemi be with someone else and _alive_ than with him and dead. But Shuichi can't help but smile fondly at her words, because it was things like that made him fall for Akemi in the first place.

(…Wait, when did Bourbon learn disguising skills?)

"I'll see what I can do," Shuichi responds. Without realizing it, he lets a few moments pass as he gazes at Akemi with a small smile, Akemi looking back just as fondly.

"If you two are done," Bourbon finally cuts in, a note of irritation in his voice.

Glancing back up, Shuichi can see a slight tightness to the otherwise bright smile. He coughs a little self-consciously.

"Ah, sorry, Bourbon-san," Akemi apologizes.

"It's fine," says Bourbon, letting out a small sigh. "I… knew what was going to happen when I let you and Akai meet." He's strangely quiet for a moment before continuing, "Anyways, Akai. Are you willing to take responsibility for faking Miyano-san's death? Of course, the ideal would be that the Organization would never find out at all, but if they do, I'd prefer they have someone to blame. They're perfectly aware that Miyano-san wouldn't have had the resources to do something like this herself."

"And where did _you_ get your resources?" asks Shuichi, raising an eyebrow. It was a valid question – Bourbon had supposedly done this without the Organization's support, so he would've had to have procured everything himself.

Though to be fair, the Organization _did_ pay well and it wasn't as if it was difficult to find corpses when you hung around Organization operatives. It was within the realm of possibility that Bourbon could've managed to find everything he needed and set up Akemi in an apartment all by himself.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Bourbon responds, a smirk playing at his lips.

"I'm going to have to know if I'm going to be pretending to have planned all this," Shuichi points out reasonably, letting his lips quirk up a little in return.

"You don't know need to know _everything_ ," Bourbon shoots back, "I'll tell you what I think you need to know and no more."

"I suppose I should've expected that," Shuichi says drily.

"Yes, you should've," Bourbon says, a touch amused. "We'll talk again another day, because I don't intend to interrupt you two any longer than I need to, but there's just one more thing."

Suddenly, before Shuichi can react, Bourbon leans in to Shuichi's ear, his hand lightly gripping Shuichi's shoulder.

"If you try to arrest or kill me, Miyano-san's current status as _alive_ will be revealed to the entire Organization sooner than you can blink," Bourbon breathes in a voice as cold as ice - the words feel like they're stabbing into Shuichi's mind. Bourbon squeezes Shuichi's shoulder just a little too tightly before he straightens back up and takes a step back, an amiable smile on his face.

Despite himself, Shuichi swallows a little. He… he had let his guard down again. Bourbon seemed to have a tendency to make him do that.

…No, wait, that threat… despite Bourbon's intimidating tone, that threat…

"What was that?" Akemi asks, glancing between Shuichi and Bourbon with a frown.

"Aha, just a stupid inside joke," Bourbon replies, letting out a carefree laugh.

"Very stupid," Shuichi says agreeably, voice carefully calm. He doesn't want Akemi to worry, after all. She has enough to worry about as it is.

Akemi still looks rather doubtful, but she lets it go after a careful examination of Shuichi's face. Shuichi hopes she hadn't seen anything incriminating.

"Anyways, Bourbon," Shuichi says shortly, glancing back up at him. "Is that all?"

"That is all," Bourbon replies, clasping his hands behind his back again. He smiles brightly. "I'll be taking my leave then. Goodbye, Akai – you'll hear from me soon."

Flipping around in almost a twirl, Bourbon takes his leave. His pace is full of confidence that he won't be stopped. Though in his defense, the confidence isn't completely unwarranted.

Shuichi watches calmly enough as Bourbon leaves the immediate area - but the moment he hears the sound of the door shutting, he finds himself jumping up out of his seat. Akemi stares at him in surprise.

"I…" Shuichi starts, not entirely sure what he was doing himself. "There's one more thing I need to tell him."

Because even with Bourbon being an unapologetic Organization operative… there was something he needed to say, and something he needed to ask. Especially after that threat.

Shuichi doesn't wait for Akemi to respond before rushing out the door of the apartment. His socks hit the floor as the door closes behind him.

"Bourbon!" Shuichi calls out.

He manages to stop Bourbon only a few paces away from the apartment door. Bourbon pauses, glancing back towards Shuichi with an eyebrow raised.

Taking a breath, Shuichi tells Bourbon sincerely, the words coming out easily - "Thank you for saving Akemi."

Bourbon looks taken aback - he stares at Shuichi with wide eyes and his mouth slightly open for a beat too long before he composes himself, mouth slamming shut.

"Hmph," Bourbon sneers, his gaze twisted into arrogance, "Well, I suppose even you're willing to put aside your pride when it comes to… comes to the person you love."

Shuichi thinks if anyone was prideful between the two of them, it was Bourbon, but he lets it go. After a small hesitation, he continues, because he feels he has to.

"Bourbon," Shuichi says, a little quietly, "You're someone I wish wasn't my enemy."

"You wish I weren't an enemy, huh," Bourbon repeats, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, he lets out a snicker, his next words coming out in a terribly amused tone, "I could say the same. You're someone I don't want as my enemy, Akai Shuichi."

Bourbon lets out another few snickers. Shuichi has no idea what's so funny about rephrasing what he said, but it was getting irritating when he had been serious about what he said.

"Aha, sorry," Bourbon says, letting out another laugh, "Just an inside joke. Anyways though…" and here, his amusement is wiped from his face, "…any cop is an enemy to a criminal. There's no point in us talking further. Go back to your girlfriend. You… would love her more than anyone else even if she _had_ died, right? So go be together when you have the chance."

Shuichi frowns, examining Bourbon carefully, but Bourbon's expression is completely unreadable again.

"You're trusting me a lot," Shuichi says finally.

"No, I'm just trusting that you won't let anything happen to Miyano-san," Bourbon denies, but no, that wasn't true, now was it?

"Oh? Is that so?" Shuichi says, taking a small step forwards. Bourbon takes a step back in return, looking just a little bit nervous. "But that threat wasn't much of a threat."

"Excuse me?" Bourbon says tightly, that cold mask fitting itself over his face again.

"You and I both know that no matter how much we struggle, the Organization will probably eventually suspect Akemi is alive if they haven't already, especially if Shiho finds her," Shuichi points out, ignoring Bourbon's icy glare. "The main thing I need to do to keep her safe is to give her a new identity and – you didn't threaten to reveal _that_ to the Organization, or to kill her. All you said was that you'd tell the Organization that she's alive, and that's something they're almost inevitably going to learn."

Bourbon doesn't respond.

"Bourbon…" continues Shuichi carefully, "Why are you doing this?"

"What does it matter?!" Bourbon finally snaps. Seeing Bourbon's icy mask break apart to reveal blazing eyes makes Shuichi blink, surprised. "Maybe I'm doing this for my own amusement. Maybe I'm doing this because I'm sick of the Organization, maybe I'm doing this out of love. Who cares? You said I don't know you, and you know what? You're right. But you also don't know _me_. You've obviously figured out that I don't plan to do anything, so just" - Bourbon's voice breaks, actually breaks and Shuichi stares in disbelief - " _Leave me alone_."

What the hell?

Shuichi opens his mouth to say something, anything, but Bourbon cuts him off before he can speak.

"Shut up," Bourbon hisses, "I'm in a terrible mood today and I'm sick of seeing you and Miyano-san. I'm leaving. If you want to try to arrest me, feel free. I'd love to see you try."

"Bour-"

"- And one more thing," Bourbon interrupts, stepping in closer to glare at Shuichi with those blazing blue eyes from up close. He jabs a finger at his chest. "Call me Amuro. Amuro Tooru. I'm also sick of hearing you call me Bourbon."

"Amuro-san?" Shuichi repeats, raising an eyebrow.

Shuichi thinks he sees the slightest expression of dismay flicker over Bourbon's face moments after he says the name. But then he blinks and Bourbon's face is just as angry as it had been before.

Bourbon - Amuro? - nods curtly then turns around and walks away.

This time, Shuichi just quietly watches him leave.

* * *

The FBI is nothing if not generous when it comes to Organization-related work. It was easy, almost too easy, to introduce Akemi as a poor bystander who had seen too much and to get her settled in a ward of Tokyo far from where she had been living as Akemi Miyano and where she had been living after Bourbon had faked her death.

Amuro hasn't gotten in contact with Shuichi in person since that day Shuichi met Akemi again. Instead, Shuichi got a long, encrypted message on his prepaid phone – Shuichi didn't want to know how Amuro had found out his number – and when he decrypted it using the key Scotch had generated for them way back when, it was a careful description of a plan that Shuichi could've executed to save Akemi.

Shuichi suspected it was a little different from the actual plan, because parts of it conflicted with what Akemi had told him. But it wasn't as if Amuro would tell him the truth if he asked. Besides, he expected that Amuro had long since thrown away the phone he had used to send Shuichi the encrypted message anyways. That was what they had always done back in the Organization.

He hasn't told anyone about Amuro and Akemi, not even Jodie. He doesn't want to risk _anyone_ knowing about Akemi – the fact Amuro knew about Shuichi's nickname for Gin still bothers him, even though he did trust Jodie – and talking about Amuro would inevitably lead to talk about Akemi.

Besides, he had more important things to worry about than Amuro – namely, tracking down Vermouth and finding Shiho. Akemi has enough things to worry about, so he hasn't told Akemi that Shiho was on the run from the Organization and that Shuichi was chasing her. If all went well, she wouldn't ever have to know how much danger her sister was in until she was out of it.

As much as he tends to be used as muscle, just because he wasn't as investigation-oriented as his younger siblings or someone like Bourbon didn't mean he was a slouch. He was perfectly capable of investigating potential Vermouth candidates and leads on Shiho.

So when his eyes land on one suspicious Mouri Kogoro, he decides to investigate him further. He sneaks into the Mouri Detective Agency when it's empty and plants some bugs, then sets himself up in a car near the agency with a pair of binoculars. He's ready for a stakeout.

What he _isn't_ ready for is to see _Bourbon_ greeting customers in the café under the agency, a cheerful smile on his face. On the bright side, this means his suspicions about Mouri Kogoro being connected with Shiho likely have merit – why else would Amuro be playing a waiter, of all things? Unfortunately, it means that the Organization is also closing in on Shiho.

Shuichi comforts himself with the fact that at least it wasn't _Gin_ standing there, taking orders with a picture-perfect smile. Now that would've been disturbing. At least a nice smile looked natural on Amuro's face, even though Shuichi was used to it having an edge of arrogance.

He debates over what to do for some days as he monitors the Mouri Detective Agency on and off, but in the end, he lets his curiosity get the better of him.

So one evening, fifteen minutes before closing, he strolls into Café Poirot. Organization operatives typically worked solo on infiltration missions, only calling in backup as they needed it. So it was unlikely that he would have to deal with anyone other than Bourbon, and he could deal with Bourbon.

The bell tinkles as he walks in, but Amuro is busy wiping a table and doesn't look up right away.

"I'm sorry, but we're closing soon," Amuro straightens up from the table and turns around, an apologetic smile half-forming on his. The moment his eyes lands on Akai, the half-formed smile disappears and he chokes, sputtering loudly, " _Akai!?_ "

"Hello, Amuro-san," Shuichi greets, and oh, he definitely didn't imagine that flicker of dismay on Amuro's face this time. Interesting.

Before he can think of what to say next, he notices a brunette woman stepping out of a door marked 'Staff Only'. She's wearing casual wear, so presumably she's about to leave.

"Amuro-san?" she asks curiously, walking up to the two of them. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, Azusa-san," Amuro says, a blinding smile pasted on his face. "I just didn't expect my uh, friend to come visit. I'm fine dealing with cleaning up, don't worry about leaving early."

Oh, so he was a friend now, was he?

"Your friend?" Azusa exclaims, clapping her hands together. She looks up at Shuichi, eyes bright and cheery. "You don't talk much about your life, Amuro-san, I think this is the first time I've met someone you know aside from the Mouris! Nice to meet you, I'm Enomoto Azusa."

Well, an Organization operative would naturally not have much to talk about in terms of their personal life… he wasn't surprised.

"I'm Moroboshi Dai," Shuichi says easily, ignoring Amuro's roll of his eyes at the fake name. "It's nice to meet you too."

"So, just how do you kno-" Azusa begins excitedly, coming up a bit closer.

"- Azusa-san!" Amuro cuts in, voice a little strained. "Aren't you going to be late for your dinner with your brother?"

Azusa glances at her watch and yelps.

"You're right, you're right," Azusa says quickly, "I have to go. Moroboshi-san, you should definitely come by Poirot again!"

Giving them both a quick wave, Azusa rushes out the door, the bell tinkling. The moment the door shuts behind Azusa, Amuro's bright smile drops from his face.

"So?" he says, sounding and looking unamused as he turns to look at Shuichi. "What are you doing here, 'Moroboshi Dai'?"

"I think that's my line, 'Bourbon'," Shuichi responds, raising an eyebrow. "Why are you playing at being a waiter in some small café?"

"Hmph, I'll have you know I'm not playing at anything," Amuro says primly, crossing his arms. "I'm an excellent waiter."

"I'm sure you are, but that's not really what I was asking," says Shuichi drily.

"Tit for tat, Akai," Amuro says, a smirk spreading across his face, "I'll tell you something if you tell me something I don't know. Like say, why you've been monitoring the Mouris for the past few days."

"You noticed?" Shuichi asks, tone mild. He had done his best to be very discreet the moment he had noticed Amuro in the café below, but he supposes that he hadn't been too careful that first day when he had bugged the agency.

"Of course I noticed," Amuro says, his voice a mix of arrogance and incredulity. Bourbon's pride was doing as well as always, Shuichi notes.

"I was seeing if they seemed to have any relation to Sherry," Shuichi responds simply, because with Amuro's previous close contact with Akemi and his knowledge of Shuichi's movements he doubted that Amuro didn't already know what he was doing. Perhaps 'giving up' this information would help convince Amuro to give up some information of his own.

But contrary to his expectations, Amuro's response isn't an arrogant retort.

"Honestly Akai, you don't need to do that act with me," says Amuro. He gives Akai a tetchy scowl. "You must know that I was the one to help her hide once she escaped, there's no need to pretend to be still looking for her. I want to know what you were _really_ doing."

"… _What."_

Amuro peers at him curiously at that reply, looking as though he hadn't expected that response. After examining Shuichi's face carefully for a few moments, his eyes widen.

"You… didn't know," Amuro says slowly, sounding like he couldn't quite believe the words coming out of his mouth. He continues, sputtering, "How could you not know!?"

"How was I supposed to know!?" Shuichi snaps back.

"You – Why wouldn't Miyano-san tell you?" Amuro demands, eyes still wide in disbelief.

There's the confirmation Shuichi needed.

"So Akemi did know about this," says Shuichi quietly, before continuing incredulously, "And you – Bourbon, are you hiding away half of the Organization's traitors in your closet? I didn't realize you had gone _insane_ since I left the Organization."

Akemi is one thing – she's thankfully a low-ranking member who isn't even codenamed. The only reason why the Organization even vaguely cares about her is because of her sister. But Sherry? Does Amuro have a death wish?

(The small, quiet suspicion that sprouted during his last confrontation with Amuro buds.)

"Shut up, Rye," Amuro snaps, and for a moment Shuichi isn't in this clean, softly lit café, but in a grimy warehouse getting in a piss match over who was to blame for an operation gone wrong.

Then he blinks, and he's back in the café with Amuro staring at him, actually looking a touch worried. He carefully schools his expression, but the look on Amuro's face doesn't change.

"Sit down, Akai," Amuro says, tone carefully controlled. He gestures at a nearby table. "I'll get you something to drink."

For whatever reason, Shuichi takes Amuro up on his offer and sits down.

* * *

Shuichi stares with a touch of suspicion at the cup of coffee that was placed in front of him. He doesn't _think_ it would be poisoned, but at the same time, maybe it wouldn't be the best idea to drink something served by an Organization operative…

"Really, Akai, if I wanted to kill you there would've been easier ways," Amuro says in exasperation. He sits on a chair across from him, chin leaning on his hand. He had settled himself down at Shuichi's table after closing the curtains on all the windows and locking the door. Shuichi appreciated the caution.

Amuro does have a point. Deciding that if he's come this far, he might as well go all the way, Shuichi picks up the cup and takes a sip.

"…It's good," Shuichi says in surprise before taking another sip. "And I don't believe I taste any common poisons, though it's a bit hard to tell with coffee."

And it is good, but that isn't the only thing. It's made just the way he likes non-canned coffee – with one cream. He doesn't think he really drank much coffee in front of Amuro as Rye, so this is yet another mysterious piece of information Amuro found out somehow. Most people assume from his canned coffee preferences that he prefers his coffee completely black, after all.

"It's not poisoned!" exclaims Amuro, still sounding exasperated. "Someone makes you coffee out of the goodness of their heart and you worry about poison…"

Shuichi isn't quite sure why Amuro made him coffee, but as with all things regarding Bourbon, he sincerely doubts it was out of the 'goodness of his heart'.

"My apologies, Amuro-kun," Shuichi says drily, and oh, oops, he's reverted to his habit of calling people younger than him in a more impolite way. He winces a little, preparing himself for a barrage of complaints from Amuro at the impolite address, but to his surprise, it never comes.

"Honestly," Amuro simply says in a huff. But the huff seems unrelated to the impolite address – if Amuro was actually annoyed, Shuichi was quite certain that he wouldn't hear the end of it.

Shuichi blinks at Amuro. Maybe he just hadn't noticed the appellation?

They sit quietly for a few minutes, Shuichi sipping at his coffee every so often. Shuichi isn't quite sure what to say. Isn't sure what he should do, even - he feels like he's lost sight of the reason why he's come here in the first place.

It all feels a bit surreal.

But finally, letting out a sigh, Amuro breaks the silence.

"When I figured out what had happened to Scotch, I still hated you for months," Amuro says quietly, eyes focused somewhere far away.

"Oh? Months, you say?" says Shuichi, genuinely surprised. "How long have you known?"

"Oh, more than four years at this point," Amuro answers with a shrug and a knowing smirk, and Shuichi chokes on his coffee.

"Four _years?_ " Shuichi demands. He places his cup of coffee back on the table, coughing a little. "You've – you've known almost the entire time then!"

"I wouldn't say that," Amuro denies, playful smile on his face. "I've just known for over four years."

"That means you've known for almost the entire time," says Shuichi, and feels a stab of mild irritation at Amuro's stupid wordplay. Then he pauses, because if Amuro has known for that long… "You tried to _kill_ me when you already knew?"

"Rude, Akai," Amuro says, wearing an expression of mock offense. "I never tried to kill you."

Shuichi gives Amuro an unimpressed look, because they both knew that while Bourbon may have never straight-up aimed a gun at him, he certainly let his aim 'accidentally slip' a time or two. There was that time with the puppies too, of course.

And that's why he doesn't quite believe that Amuro has known for that long. He can't imagine the vitriol Bourbon aimed at him for all those years was just, what? An act?

Then he has to pause again, because what does it say about _him_ that he was calmly enjoying a cup of coffee with the man that had tried to kill him numerous times, no matter how one-sided the rivalry had always been?

But in the end he just takes another sip of the coffee and lets it go for now, because he was still far more grateful that Akemi wasn't dead to be resentful. If Amuro was going to let bygones be bygones, then so would he.

(And regardless of his personal feelings, he would need to let things go, if Amuro really was what Shuichi suspected he was.)

Meeting Shuichi's unimpressed expression with cool eyes, Amuro continues, "Would would my motivations matter anyways? Murder is murder. If I really had killed you, whether it was out of hypocrisy or out of righteous justice, it wouldn't change the blood that would be on my hands."

Amuro's expression is as carefully controlled as his tone had been, but Shuichi's eyes narrow. That almost sounded like he was _judging_ murderers. Despite being a murderer in an organization of murderers.

"Anyways, my point was, even though I understood logically that you hadn't been the one to kill Scotch, I still hated you on an emotional level for ages," Amuro says, waving a hand dismissively. "So if you feel annoyed that Miyano-san didn't tell you about Sherry even though I'm sure _your_ lack of communication was the reason," – and here, Shuichi winces a little because Amuro had hit the nail on the head – "Then I think that's understandable, if not reasonable."

"Amuro-kun," Shuichi says, partly just to see if maybe Amuro hadn't noticed the more impolite address the last time. But Amuro doesn't react again, so, feeling a bit bewildered, he continues, "Is this a therapy session?"

"It's just a bit of advice," Amuro responds, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I appreciate your advice," Shuichi says drily, before continuing with something of a lie, "But I can't expect Akemi to tell me things when I don't tell _her_ things. I don't feel annoyed."

In truth, despite the hypocrisy, he does feel annoyed. But in his defense, he's mostly just annoyed at himself for getting stung by his own secrets. What was the point of doing things 'for real' with Akemi if he fell into his old habits of hiding everything from her?

Shuichi resolves to be more honest with Akemi from now on.

"I see. My apologies," Amuro says, voice suddenly curt. Shuichi swallows back a groan, because really, what had set Amuro off _now?_ He said that he appreciated the advice didn't he? Sometimes he felt like talking with Bourbon was like navigating a minefield.

"Look, Amuro-kun, I just want to know," Shuichi begins, then stops. 'What are you here for?' was on the tip of his tongue - but that wasn't really what he wanted to know anymore, not now. So instead, he hardens his expression and says bluntly, "You're like Scotch and I, aren't you."

"Well," Amuro drawls, and the arrogant edge to his voice is enough to make Shuichi immediately regret making the comment. "We are all men, so I suppose we have that much in common."

"You know what I meant."

"Do I?" Amuro says mildly, "You ask dangerous questions, Akai Shuichi. Think what you want, but," he holds up a finger to his lips and smiles, "I would prefer if you kept those thoughts to yourself."

Amuro's uncaring, unsurprised attitude to Shuichi's accusation makes him doubt himself for an instant. Amuro could've been leading Shuichi to his conclusion, trying to manipulate him. In fact, he suspects heavily that regardless of his motivations, Amuro _wanted_ him to reach that conclusion – Bourbon was far too skilled of an actor to let so many hints drop otherwise.

But saving Akemi and if Amuro was to be believed, saving Shiho, was a step too far just for manipulations.

"Even if I don't say anything," Shuichi says carefully, "You've been very… flashy, Bourbon."

"Maybe flashy to _you_ ," Amuro concedes. His gaze cools, eyes narrowing, and if Shuichi was a lesser man he might've felt a chill run up his spine. "But as far as anyone else can tell, I've been just as exceptional of an operative as usual."

"I see," says Shuichi shortly, "And part of that 'exceptional work' is being a café worker?"

"Oh please, Akai, you're going to have to be a bit better than _that_ to get information from me," Amuro snorts.

"...Mouri Kogoro," he tries.

"Mouri who?" Amuro says, innocent smile on his face.

Shuichi scowls a little.

Amuro chuckles, then laces his hands together in front of him and leans in across the table. "How about we do a trade, Akai? You give me a bit of advice on something, and I'll give you some of that information you want so badly."

"Advice?" Shuichi echoes, not bothering to hold back his skepticism.

"It's nothing that would support the Organization, I promise," Amuro says. He smiles sharply. "I just don't have anyone to really talk to about this. I could use the ear."

"...Alright," Shuichi decides. It's not like he loses anything by just hearing Amuro out.

"Okay, I'll go right into it then," says Amuro with a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes. He taps a finger against his cheek. "Hey, Akai. This is just a hypothetical, of course - but say, for example, that you knew that someone was going to commit murder. And you might be able to convince them not to. Would you try to convince them and just hope they don't commit it, or wait for them to make their attempt and stop them there?"

Shuichi blinks, stares, then with no hesitation, replies, "Both."

Amuro stares back. "What?"

"Both," Shuichi repeats, nodding. "Why leave things to chance?"

"I-" Amuro starts, moving his hand to his chin. "I- yes, of course. That" - Amuro begins to look a bit sour - "that does make sense."

The expression on Amuro's face is awfully tetchy. Shuichi just hopes that Amuro won't take out his annoyance on Shuichi himself.

"Is that the only advice you wanted?" Shuichi asks.

Amuro clicks his tongue, then looking as though he had swallowed a lemon, mutters, "Yes."

Shuichi can't stop his lips from quirking up.

* * *

In the end, Shuichi manages to wrangle two major bits of information out of Bourbon - (a) Vermouth was indeed chasing after Shiho with Bourbon as backup, and (b) Akemi knew where Shiho was, as did Amuro himself.

Unfortunately, no matter how he presses, Amuro refuses to reveal just who Vermouth had disguised herself as, and he didn't exactly have the cards to make him cough the info up.

He's not quite sure what to do about the Bourbon issue. He knows where he is, knows what crimes he's committed, but he can't exactly testify about what he's seen Bourbon do without incriminating himself in the process. And regardless, if Amuro really is an ally… leaving him alone might be the best move at the moment.

So he continues to keep quiet about Bourbon and instead confronts Akemi.

* * *

The confrontation could've probably gone _better_ , but in his defense, it could've gone _worse_ as well.

Shuichi learns a lot. It's a little shocking that someone can actually shrink, but he trusts Akemi enough to take in stride. At this point, he's disappointed but not unsurprised to hear that Shiho also is uninterested in the Witness Protection Problem.

He doesn't meet Shiho and doesn't plan to, because it's dangerous enough meeting Akemi like he is - but he doesn't think he can stand it, knowing Akemi is right here in Tokyo and never meeting her. Apparently even Akemi is only communicating with her sister through encrypted e-mails and calls.

It's Akemi's grievances with his secrets that raises the problem.

It's not like the things Akemi points out are exactly wrong, per se. He is trying to protect her, and Shiho as well, and some of that involved keeping secrets. He can see why she might see that as Shuichi trying to shield her or keep her in the dark.

He does promise to be more truthful with her in the future and it's a genuine promise - when it comes to things related to Akemi or her sister, it would probably be best if she did know things now. She seems happy enough with that, and Shuichi is glad, because he hates to see her sad or unhappy.

Dinner is a little awkward the next couple times they meet at Akemi's apartment though.

* * *

When Shuichi gets back to his hotel room after an unproductive day of searching for clues on Vermouth, Amuro is sitting on the sofa in front of the television, fiddling with his phone. He slips it into a pocket when Shuichi enters the room.

"Hello, Akai!" he greets cheerfully, aiming a subdued smile at Shuichi.

Shuichi stares a little, because while he's seen Amuro smile plenty, this one doesn't look quite so fake or sneering as normal.

"What are you doing here, Amuro-kun?" he asks, deciding to not bother asking how he found out where he was living or how he got in. It's not like Amuro would give him a straight answer either way.

"Well, I wanted to hear how things were going with Miyano-san," Amuro replies, leaning back against the sofa casually as if it was _his_ room he was relaxing in. "I haven't really seen her since you spirited her away, you know."

"Aren't you in contact with Shiho?" Akai points out, not buying the explanation. "I imagine it would be infinitely easier to go through her."

"Not as easy as you might think, Akai," says Amuro, smile not fading. "I may have helped her, but she's still rather wary around me. Understandable, of course, but it means I prefer not to talk with her unless necessary to avoid stressing her out."

Shuichi brings a hand to his forehead, sighs, and decides to let it go. He was getting a little tired of constantly doubting Amuro's motivations anyways.

"Akemi is doing fine," Shuichi says truthfully.

"Are you being a proper lovey-dovey couple?" Amuro asks brightly, and Shuichi swears that sometimes Amuro is like a sharp-eyed snake, biting down on any weak spot he can see.

"Of course not, Amuro-kun, it's a bit difficult when Akemi is supposed to be dead and I'm hunted by the Organization," Shuichi says drily, then lies, "But we understand that - we're still doing fine."

"That's good to hear," Amuro says, his voice cheery - but Shuichi can't hold back the feeling that something's off. He shakes it off quickly enough though - he doesn't care to investigate what's going on in Amuro's mindscape.

"If that's all, I would appreciate it if you left," Shuichi says bluntly, stepping further into the room to allow Amuro unimpeded access to the exit. "I'm busy tonight."

"Oh? With what?" Amuro asks.

"With finding a new hotel," Shuichi shoots back, mildly irritated.

Amuro laughs cheerfully. "You know I'll find you again in a couple days even if you move, right?"

Shuichi narrows his eyes at Amuro, not in the least because he suspects that what Amuro claims is true. He's not sure how Amuro is tracking him, but so long as Amuro is working in the same area that Shuichi is investigating, he imagines Amuro has his ways.

He sighs and lets himself relax a little - because he might as well - then leans against a wall.

"You're in a very good mood today, Amuro-kun," he says drily.

"Does it seem that way?" Amuro asks with a smile. He holds up his left hand in front of him and stares at it, expression a touch melancholic, and continues, "I just realized that even if some things are gone forever, and it's better that way, not _everything_ has to be."

Amuro closes his hand into a fist and lets it drop back down on the sofa next to him.

Shuichi frowns. What was that?

"Anyways," Amuro says, and slips a hand into his pocket. Shuichi automatically tenses, but the only thing Amuro takes out is a square, plastic item.

A DVD case.

Amuro flashes a grin at him. "Let's watch a movie!"

...What, he thinks.

"...What," he says.

"Don't worry, it's an American movie," Amuro says brightly, waving the DVD case in the air. "A spy flick too - I thought you might like that, right?"

"Amuro-kun, in _what universe_ -"

"-It's only a couple hours, don't be so stingy," Amuro complains, and Shuichi just blinks because this whole situation was incredibly surreal. He feels like lately, he steps into a strange fever dream whenever Amuro enters the picture.

(Maybe this _was_ a fever dream induced by Bourbon poisoning him with something… it would make as much sense as anything else that had happened in the past month or so.)

Amuro gestures at the television and the DVD player below it. "The hotel's given you this nice HD television, but have you even used it? I'm doing you a favour, really."

"Amuro-kun-"

"-Do you know where the remote is, though? I can't seem to find it. I d-"

"- _Amuro-kun,_ " Shuichi snaps, and Amuro finally shuts his mouth. He looks up at Shuichi, head cocked to the side as if he didn't know perfectly well what the problem was. Shuichi continues, "I have no intention of happily watching a movie with the person actively working with the very criminal I'm trying to find."

"It's not that I don't see your point of view, Akai," Amuro says, undeterred, "But I can't spoonfeed you FBI all the answers. Besides," - and here, Amuro's face goes serious for the first time this night - "If you learnt where and when you could find Vermouth right at this very moment, it would turn out worse for all of us. Trust me on this."

Shuichi opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it immediately because to his horror, he finds he _does_ trust Amuro on this. If someone who had whisked away two traitors from the Organization was saying that much, then perhaps Shuichi should trust his words, at least a little.

He honestly didn't even know what was going on anymore.

Amuro peers at him curiously. "Akai? Is everything alright?"

"I-" he starts, then pinches his nose.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

He sighs. "Alright then. Let's watch this movie."

Amuro grins brightly and for a moment, Shuichi can't quite bring himself to question what he's doing.

* * *

"Dai- Shuichi-kun. _Shuichi-kun._ "

Shuichi blinks back into the present to meet Akemi's somewhat exasperated look. He coughs and apologizes, "Sorry. I was thinking about work."

They're sitting at the dinner table in Akemi's apartment, having dinner - it's a meal they made together. It's good, though a bit simple - neither of them have much in the way of culinary skill.

He didn't mean to get distracted, not really, but something about one of the people he tailed today bothered him.

Akemi sighs and leans against her hand on the table. She mumbles, "You never got _this_ distracted all the time before…"

"My bad," Shuichi apologizes again, and Akemi flushes - Shuichi supposes he wasn't meant to hear that mumble.

It was easier before. Before, it had been his job to get closer to Akemi, to well, use her to get deeper into the Organization.

Now every other moment he spends with Akemi he can't help but worry about the Organization. And he can't exactly blame Akemi for being annoyed that she can't get his full - or even a decent amount - of attention on her for a single dinner.

"Shuichi-kun, I do understand how important your work is - for both me and everyone. If on some days you really can't think of me over work, then just cancel. I won't be mad," Akemi says kindly, "And if there's _anything_ I can do to help, just tell me."

He doesn't deserve her, but well, he doesn't want her to get hurt by involving her in work, and…

"Then I would never come for dinner," Shuichi points out reasonably.

At those words, Akemi stares at him, looking a little disbelieving, then brings a hand to her face and groans. Shuichi realizes too late what he said.

"I- It's fine," Akemi mumbles, "I guess that's true…"

"I'm sorry," Shuichi says - the words are genuine.

Akemi sighs again and straightens back up, shaking her head. "It's fine, really. That's just the way you are, Dai-kun. I'll try to understand."

Shuichi frowns, and says quietly, "I do love you."

Just because he was distracted didn't mean he didn't treasure his time with Akemi. She understood that, right?

Akemi smiles, a little sadly for some reason, and says, "I do too," before picking her chopsticks back up to start eating again.

He's not quite sure how to fill the silence.

* * *

Shuichi has stopped questioning the hows or whys whenever he finds Amuro in his hotel room in the evening.

"Hello, Amuro-kun," he just says, walking past Amuro sitting on a lounge chair in order to head to the bed. He shrugs off his coat and throws it haphazardly on the bed before sitting down on the edge, facing Amuro.

"Hey, Akai," Amuro says, briefly flashing a smile at Akai before scowling. "This hotel was hard to find, you know. It's smaller than your old one, too - no television."

"My apologies for making it difficult for you to tail me," Akai says drily.

"Thank you, I appreciate the apology," responds Amuro primly, and Akai can't help but laugh, just a little.

Amuro looks surprised at the sound, but not displeased. Akai can't help but wonder if he's falling into some trap, but at this point, he also can't bring himself to care too much. Amuro could've killed him ten times over at this point. But he hasn't.

"Since there's nothing we can watch a movie on but there _is_ a small fridge in the room, I brought sandwiches," Amuro says, gesturing towards the fridge in question.

Shuichi blinks at the fridge, then turns his gaze back towards Amuro. "Sandwiches?"

"Yes, sandwiches. Ham sandwiches, in fact - my speciality," Amuro explains, and Shuichi raises an eyebrow.

"Speciality," Shuichi echoes, a little doubtful.

"What's with that tone, Akai Shuichi!?" Amuro demands, crossing his arms. "I've been able to infiltrate countless cafés and restaurants for a reason, you know."

"Alright, Amuro-kun," Shuichi says placatingly. He resigns himself to at least pretending to like the sandwiches when he eats them. He's never been the biggest fan of sandwiches, though.

* * *

The sandwiches are good. Incredibly good. He's not sure whether to feel pleased or vaguely annoyed.

* * *

When Shuichi slides into the passenger seat of Jodie's car one day, he lets out a small sigh.

Jodie glances at him in confusion. "Something wrong, Shuu? It's rare for you to seem out of sorts."

"Jodie," he says seriously, placing his hand on his chin. "Is there a word for 'honeytrap'... but with friendship instead of romance?"

"What?" Jodie says, sounding half-amused, half-incredulous.

"Where someone gets close to someone to get information," Shuichi explains, frowning a little, "But rather than using romance or sexual relations as a motivator, they use friendship."

Jodie lets out a bright, amused laugh. "I've never heard about something like that."

"Hmm, so you haven't either…" Shuichi mutters.

"I think someone would have to be pretty starved for friendship for something like that to even work though," Jodie says, still sounding amused.

Well, he wouldn't say he was _starved_. It was just nice. That was all. He would say Jodie and Camel and others were friends, it wasn't as if he didn't have any. It was just they didn't exactly spend time together outside of work.

(Maybe Amuro felt the same way.

Maybe Amuro missed the days when Scotch, Amuro, and him acted all stupid around each other despite all three of them being in a bloodthirsty organization.

Maybe he did as well.)

"Yes, you're right, of course," Shuichi just says, keeping his expression neutral.

"What made you bring it up?" Jodie asks, glancing at Shuichi curiously.

For the upteenth time, Shuichi briefly considers telling Jodie about everything that was happening with Bourbon, then dismisses the thought. Information was a need to know commodity. And no one really needed to know about Bourbon- about Amuro right now. Not when Amuro was being cooperative, not when a leak in the FBI could lead to Amuro's death so very easily.

"Nothing, just spotted a TV show that used that premise and was curious," he says dismissively, then quickly changes the topic back to work.

* * *

When Shuichi gets back to his hotel room one evening, Amuro is there, and he had been _really_ hoping he wouldn't be. He had just had a failed dinner with Akemi, then gotten into a bit of an argument with her, and he really wasn't in the mood for any more conversation that night.

But before he can say anything, Amuro takes one look at him and stands up from his chair.

"Ah, it looks like you're not really in the mood to talk tonight," he says, smiling. "I'll come back another day. See you, Akai!"

He gives Shuichi a small wave then heads out the door.

Shuichi stares as Amuro leaves. He blinks a couple times, a little taken aback, but settles on smiling.

He appreciates not having to say anything.

* * *

Shuichi has to cancel on Akemi one night because of an important stakeout. When he checks his phone hours later, there's only a single text from Akemi in response:

 _Alright._

He stares at the too-short reply for too long.

* * *

They find Vermouth, finally.

Araide Tomoaki. A kindly doctor in Beika City and an occasional basketball coach. Polar opposites with Vermouth herself, but that's never stopped her before.

Jodie is the one who plans out most of the operation to move against Vermouth, with some occasional input from Shuichi and James.

But as they plan the operation, there's one little thought repeating itself in the back of his mind.

Araide's family is all dead. They were most likely all killed by Vermouth to better keep her cover intact.

Amuro let them all die.

* * *

Shuichi moves hotels again, this time to a very lowkey one he doubts Amuro will be able to find before the operation takes place.

It must've worked, because he hasn't seen Amuro since he moved.

But two nights before the operation, he's sitting alone at a table for two in some small, but busy bar when someone slides himself into the seat in front of him.

He's not surprised when he looks up to see a shock of light hair and darker skin.

"Bourbon," he says coldly.

Amuro blinks at him, and he has the gall to look confused. "Hello, Akai."

"You know, Bourbon," he says, glancing to the side. He's more angry at himself for letting his guard down than anything else, but still - "The FBI would've been perfectly capable of saving Araide Tomoaki's family."

"You're mad because I did it for you?" Amuro says incredulously, "I didn't think you were that petty."

...What.

Shuichi buries his face into his hands and lets out a long breath. After some moments, he looks back up and meets Amuro's gaze steadily.

"You saved Araide Tomoaki's family," he states.

Amuro, not breaking eye contact, says flatly, "Yes."

Shuichi examines Amuro's face for a bit longer before closing his eyes and sighing. Should he believe him? Amuro was skilled enough at acting that he suspects that he wouldn't be able to tell if Amuro was lying.

"You thought I let them die. I see," Amuro says calmly, putting his hand on his chin. He glances to the side, looking contemplative but not offended. "Alright. I can't prove 've long since gone into hiding. But I can describe parts of how I did it, and then you can decide whether if I planned that much I would really not go through with actually doing it."

"Only parts?" Shuichi notes.

"I have some secrets I need to keep," Amuro replies, dropping his hand down to his lap.

"I can't risk so much on just trust anymore, Amuro-kun," Shuichi says frankly, lacing his fingers together on the table and leaning in. Amuro's face is carefully unreadable. "I've given you more trust than I should've because of what you did for - you know. But this can't go on forever when you're an active Organization member and haven't given me any indication you want to quit."

Amuro closes his eyes. "You should really know why I don't plan to quit."

"I know what you want me to think about why you don't plan to quit," Shuichi corrects, "I don't know why, not for sure."

Amuro is quiet for a while, different emotions flashing over his face in quick succession. The bustle of the bar around them doesn't fade as Shuichi waits for Amuro's response.

Finally, Amuro sighs and stands up sharply, chair scraping loudly against the floor.

"I'm sorry, Akai," Amuro murmurs, so quietly Shuichi can barely make it out, especially with the noise in the bar.

He leaves the bar quickly, nimbly slipping between chairs and tables shoved closely together.

As Shuichi watches him leave, he's a bit surprised at the heavy disappointment that settles itself down in his heart. But he doesn't let himself do something stupid like chase after Amuro.

Amuro made his decision.

That was that.

* * *

He gets an encrypted text from an unknown number the next night. When he decrypts it with Scotch's key, it's still not very understandable.

 _You should be careful. Drinks made from apples can so easily poison themselves - and ravens may have more weapons that you expect._

He can't help but respond. After opening up his laptop to encrypt his message, he sends it to the number.

 _Could you be a little less cryptic?_

His phone soon beeps with a short reply, this one unencrypted.

 _No._

Shuichi sighs.

* * *

The night after that, during the operation, he subdues the Organization sniper that shot Jodie and removes all of the sniper's guns from his reach - a sniper rifle, a shotgun, and three pistols. Then he recalls the text from the day before and frowns.

Calvados was a drink made from apples, wasn't it?

Just to be safe, he gives Calvados another once-over and discovers another small pistol he had missed, hidden behind his bulletproof vest.

Shuichi raises an eyebrow. This was a little ridiculous - what did Calvados think he was, a gun dealer?

But he didn't have any more time to waste on Calvados - Jodie and that boy were in danger. He jumps down from the cargo containers to confront Vermouth.

Unfortunately, Vermouth manages to distract the boy and shoot him with his own tranquilizer, escaping in Shuichi's car with the boy as a hostage. As a special bonus, she even shoots up Jodie's car, leaving them with no way to pursue.

Fortunately, they still have Calvados to interrogate.

He suggests to Jodie that she call up James to pick up Calvados, then call the local police to report everything else. It would be easy enough for Jodie to pretend to be an FBI investigator on vacation who just so happened to get caught up in a kidnapping case.

Then he makes to leave, because he doesn't want to have to deal with the local police. Only before he can leave, the sound of police sirens begins to draw near - worryingly quickly.

Shuichi clicks his tongue. He probably wouldn't be able to escape before the police came - not on foot.

"We're dating, Jodie," he says.

"Excuse me?" sputters Jodie from her spot leaning against a cargo container. Her hand is still tightly gripping her gunshot wound.

"It's the easiest excuse. We're an American couple who just so happen to be FBI investigators on vacation who just so happened to get involved with a kidnapping case," Shuichi explains, glancing back at Jodie.

"That feels like quite the stretch, Shuu…"

"If you have something better, I'm all ears," Shuichi says calmly. He sees a couple patrol cars turn in from around a corner a couple hundred metres ahead. "We're running out of time."

"Alright, fine!" Jodie exclaims, letting out a groan. She glares up at Shuichi. "You know, maybe you should look a little more caring about your 'girlfriend' who just got shot…"

"Right," Shuichi says, walking up to Jodie to kneel next to her. Once he's actually up close to Jodie's wound, he can't help but wonder, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I just got shot, no I'm not," Jodie says bluntly, "But I'll survive."

They watch in silence as the patrol cars draw near, their sirens shrilling. The sirens finally shut off when the cars stop some paces away from them, though the strobe lights on the cars still stay on.

A few men step out of the cars and begin walking towards them. A black-haired man wearing glasses is leading the small procession - Shuichi presumes he's the inspector of the group.

They stop within talking distance of Shuichi and Jodie, then the black-haired man in the front looks down at them. His expression is cooly professional.

"FBI Agent Starling and FBI Agent Akai, I presume?" he asks.

He blinks up at the man with no little surprise. But there was no sense in lying when he didn't have any way to pretend otherwise.

"...Yes," he says.

"Yes," Jodie echoes, sounding surprised - and a touch nervous.

The man nods curtly. "I am Sergeant Kazami Yuuya of the PSB. We were told that there might also be two Organization operatives to capture and a young boy to protect?"

Shuichi's eyes widen at the mention of the Organization. So Japan _is_ aware of the Organization… though judging from the state of their local police, he suspects only a select few are aware.

He's also a bit suspicious, because while a bystander could have heard the commotion and called the local police, there's no way they could've just called up the PSB. No, there's only one person he can think of that might have done this...

"One operative escaped, taking the boy as a hostage," Jodie explains hesitantly. She glances at Shuichi, but Shuichi isn't entirely sure what to do in this situation either. He shrugs, and so she continues, "The second is knocked unconscious above us."

"I see. Furuya-san mentioned that he suspected this might happen..." Kazami muses, trailing off. He glances behind towards the men that had followed him. "Takayama! Namatame! Go and take the operative here into custody."

Two men salute Kazami then make their way into the shadows behind the containers.

Kazami turns his gaze back forwards towards Shuichi and Jodie again.

"Agent Jodie, we'll escort you to a police hospital," he says calmly, "Agent Akai, do you have any injuries that must be treated?"

Shuichi shakes his head. "I'm fine."

"Very well then," Kazami says, "I'll be escorting you to our offices, then. The chief inspector would like to meet you - and your leader. James Black, I was told?"

The PSB were surprisingly well-informed on FBI matters. It was unsettling, to say the least.

"I don't suppose I have the option to refuse?" Shuichi tries, a small smile quirking up his lips. This sounded like it was going to be a bother.

"Shuu!" Jodie hisses.

"You do not, I'm afraid," replies Kazami, not sounding very apologetic.

He lets a small breath escape his mouth then nods. "I understand. I'll call James."

* * *

He has little idea how things go so well with the PSB, but what he does know is that it's suspicious.

Within a couple weeks, they've signed preliminary agreements for cooperation with the local law enforcement with a surprising amount of independence provided to the FBI. They were forced to allow the Japanese to take Calvados into custody, but either way, with the new agreements the FBI should be able to act on the information the Japanese would extract from the man.

Shuichi knows that James has always been a good negotiator, but even he can only do so much. He's certain that the only reason negotiations went so well and so quickly was that they had an ally on the Japanese side - someone who actively wanted the FBI brought into the fold.

 _Someone_ who hasn't made a peep since the PSB mysteriously showed up at an FBI operation.

He goes to Café Poirot in the hopes of catching this someone, but he's told that Amuro had apparently abruptly quit two weeks prior and hasn't shown his face since.

As he walks back to his hotel from the café, it's only when he walks by one, two, four people who side-eye him and jump out of the way that he realizes just how dark the expression on his face must be.

It seems he's worried.

* * *

When Shuichi walks into Akemi's apartment one evening, there's a child sitting on the sofa next to Akemi.

He blinks. That was the strangely intelligent kid - Edogawa Conan - who had gotten himself involved in the Vermouth operation, wasn't it?

Two pairs of eyes turn to look at him as he walks closer.

"Akemi?" he says, not bothering to hide his confusion.

"Hi, Shuichi-kun," Akemi greets, voice steady and serious. "There's something you need to know."

That boy, Conan, nods at those words, looking just as serious. Strangely, the expression doesn't look out of place on a child's face. Stranger still, Shuichi is starting to get the feeling he knows Conan from somewhere, somewhere a long time ago.

Considering what had happened with Shiho, could this 'child' also be…?

He glances between them, gauging their expressions, then nods slowly. Walking himself over to a nearby lounge chair, he sits himself down.

"Alright," he says, "What is this about?"

"Amuro-san," Conan replies, and Shuichi's eyes immediately zero in on the child. Unfazed by the sharp gaze, Conan continues, "Or as you might know him - Bourbon?"

"I'm listening," says Shuichi.

* * *

Apparently the night of that Vermouth operation, Shiho was planning to go give herself to Vermouth in exchange for Conan. It was Amuro who had knocked her out and kept her stuck at home until everything was long over.

Amuro had politely waited in the Agasa residence until Conan and Agasa returned to explain what he had done - though not to Conan's satisfaction. Which is why he had let Amuro leave, but slipped a tracker bug on Amuro's shoe using some gum.

"But it didn't actually work," Conan explains, looking irritated. "We got to hear the first part of a conversation with Vermouth on the phone - just about her failing to capture Haibara - but the bug affected the phone call quality and he immediately found and destroyed it."

"That isn't surprising from Am- Bourbon," Shuichi says calmly, "Did he say anything of interest before he destroyed the bug?"

"No," Conan says, shaking his head. Then he smirks, "But he didn't destroy the second tracker I stuck on his coat. This one wasn't a bug, so we couldn't hear any more of his conversation, but..."

Conan taps a button on his glasses and they light up, a red light blinking on a rudimentary map.

"...I do know where he is."

Shuichi eyes Conan with no little skepticism. "It's been over two weeks, boy. I doubt that Bourbon wouldn't have noticed it by now."

"Unless he wants to be found," Conan suggests, "The way the tracker's been moving makes me sure it's on a person, at least."

Shuichi leans in on his seat, focusing his full attention on Conan. "You think Amuro-kun might be in some kind of trouble?"

Conan blinks up at him with no little confusion. "No, I was thinking he might be trying to draw out the FBI or something. That it might be a trap."

"No, I agree with Shuichi-kun," Akemi says, shaking her head. "Bourbon-san wouldn't need to do something like this to draw out the FBI - if the tracker really is still on him, I think he's calling for help."

"Akemi-no-neechan, Akai-san," starts Conan, examining each of them with eyes that were suddenly razor-sharp. It was a touch disconcerting. "Do you know Amuro-san personally?"

"...He did help me escape from the Organization," Akemi explains, and Shuichi frowns, because he doesn't want to suspect Akemi but her eyes are floating to the side and her hands are fidgeting. She's not telling the whole truth, he's fairly certain.

He drops it for later though - no need to bring up anything in front of Conan. Shuichi just says shortly, and uninformatively, "I've met Amuro-kun a few times."

"Is that why you trust him?" Conan asks curiously, tone as innocent as the child he looked to be.

"Mm, I suppose?" Akemi replies with a smile.

"I wouldn't say I trust him," Shuichi corrects curtly. He trusts Amuro to some extent, yes, but there's still too many mysteries behind Amuro for Shuichi to give him even a large amount of his trust.

(A voice in the back of his mind mutters that his actions don't match with his thoughts. He ignores it.)

"I see," Conan says, hand coming up to his chin to complement his contemplative expression. "Well, regardless, I think it would be a waste to not use this information. I wanted to use it right away, but Jodie-sensei disappeared suddenly so I couldn't talk with her and" - he rubs the back of his head with a small laugh - "Haibara was so against it she kinda stole away all my tracking glasses."

"Shiho asked me for help with stopping Conan-kun from going off and doing his own thing," Akemi explains, "That's when I suggested she should tell him to talk with you, and he agreed."

"Oh?" Shuichi says, then appraises Conan's tight grip on his glasses, the determined edge to his face, and holds back a sigh. "I suppose the cost for this information is your participation?"

Conan nods firmly. "In fact, I think it would be better for me to approach Amuro-san."

Shuichi raises an eyebrow. Even if perhaps Conan wasn't in actuality a child, he was loath to put a bystander in danger like that. "What makes you say that?"

A wide grin spreads across Conan's face, and the sharp look shoots a jolt of anticipation through Shuichi.

He smiles despite himself.

* * *

The plan is to approach Amuro at night, when he's (presumably) at home in an apartment. Shuichi begins by scoping out the location where the tracker stays still for some hours most nights.

He settles himself down on a rooftop a few buildings over and examines every person going into the apartment building in question. When after an irritatingly long period of time, he actually spots Amuro's light-coloured head of hair through the scope of his sniper rifle, he's surprised at how relieved he feels.

(He considered Scotch his friend too. Maybe he wasn't as close to him as Bourbon, but he genuinely liked Scotch, and he genuinely felt rather terrible when he died.

If only he hadn't gotten distracted by the sound of someone coming up the stairs, Scotch would still be alive. It was his fault in the end, he knew.

Maybe he just doesn't want to feel that way again.)

He calls up Conan to tell him that he located Amuro.

* * *

Shuichi is rather impressed with Conan's acting skills. Though he unfortunately can't judge Conan's body language and facial expressions, his intonation at least is excellent.

He's currently listening in on Conan's conversation with Amuro from a car parked in an alley near the apartment building. Though he disapproved, in the end he couldn't stop Akemi from coming with him, so she's sitting next to him in the passenger seat.

At least she's in disguise - and Shuichi admits that it's a pretty decent disguise. She's done up her makeup well enough that she looks like an entirely different person, especially with her cut and dyed hair.

Conan's voice crackles out of the transmitter. "- and then Azusa-san said that she was hiring the Detective Boys to find you and give you this Café Poirot apron as a leaving gift you forgot! And I did! Heh heh, aren't you impressed, Amuro-san?"

"I certainly am, Conan-kun. But it's really late! Thank you for bringing me this apron, but you should really be heading home now."

"Can I please use your bathroom first? I really need to go!"

Shuichi hears Amuro sigh audibly through the transmitter.

"Yes, but only if you promise me you'll be quiet, Conan-kun." There's a moment of silence, then- "The people next to me aren't the most understanding of people - I heard them yelling at someone else for being too loud the other day."

He hears the sound of a door opening and feet tip-tapping on a wooden floor, but that's not important right now.

Shuichi murmurs, his eyes widening, "His apartment is bugged."

"Bugged?" Akemi echoes.

"In the Organization, 'yell' was our codeword for 'someone's listening'," Shuichi explains, "I can't imagine why he'd go out of his way to say something like that otherwise."

"But how would he know that you were listening?" asks Akemi, frowning.

Shuichi can't help but let out a laugh, because he doesn't know either. Really, the only possibility he can think of is...

"Hope?" he suggests with a half-amused smile.

Akemi stares at him, her frown deepening. Shuichi glances at her with some confusion, his smile disappearing.

"Is something the matter?" he asks.

She's quiet for a beat before shaking her head and smiling. "No, it's nothing."

"...Alright," he says, a touch doubtfully but it's not the time right now. He turns his attention back to the transmitter.

Nothing interesting comes out of the transmitter in the end, though. Conan just pretends to go to the washroom, then he's unceremoniously shoved out of Amuro's apartment.

It makes Shuichi wonder if he was just reading too much into Amuro's statement, that maybe Amuro wasn't actually hoping to talk to him through Conan.

Then Conan jumps back into the back seat of his car and he says, face serious, "Amuro-san gave me a message."

Immediately twisting around, Shuichi demands, "What was it?"

"It was Morse Code - Japanese Morse Code in fact, I'm pretty sure," Conan explains. He takes out his cellphone and begins tapping on it. "He kept on tapping a pattern on my hand as we talked. If I remember the pattern correctly - the message he wanted to give me was -"

Conan cuts himself off to let out a snort. "Amuro-san is the lone wolf type, isn't he?"

He flips his phone around to let Shuichi and Akemi see what was on the screen.

 _No problems. Don't come._

Shuichi raises an eyebrow. Well, that was rude.

* * *

The next day, they're at the PSB headquarters dealing with the Zero division again. Just because their higher-ups may have given the okay for joint operations didn't meant things were going as smoothly on the lower levels - most of the local police officers seemed to hold some resentment towards them.

So when Shuichi approaches Kazami Yuuya at his desk soon after a joint meeting, he's not surprised to feel a half-dozen sharp glares stabbing into him from nearby desks.

He lets the piercing looks roll off of him and asks, "Sergeant Kazami, I had a question."

Kazami eyes him with some trepidation. "If it'll be quick."

"It should be," Shuichi says, "Just satisfying my curiosity - does your team not have an inspector? You seem to report directly to the chief inspector."

Out of the corners of his eyes, he spots two, three - five people make a noticable reaction at the question. Looks like he's hit the nail on the head.

"It does, but Furuya-san is… on leave at the moment," Kazami replies haltingly, "I do much of the day-to-day work."

"Hm, I see," Shuichi says mildly, and it's a little hard to imagine Amuro managing to be an _inspector_ while being an Organization operative, but nonetheless - he's done his own investigation into the team and the only person missing seems to be the inspector. It has to be him. So he smiles a little and continues, "Well then, I suppose I should tell _you_ that I happened to get into contact with Amuro Tooru yesterday."

The reaction to _that_ is much less subdued. A woman freezes in the middle of typing something on her laptop - a man actually flips his head to stare at Shuichi. Kazami, to his credit, doesn't react noticeably.

"...is that so?" Kazami says calmly.

"Yes," says Shuichi, and doesn't say anything more. He lets Kazami stew in silence with no small amount of amusement.

As he predicts, Kazami breaks soon enough. "What did he say?"

"Oh? Is he someone you know?" Shuichi asks. He can't help but smile a bit.

Kazami glares up at him coldly, and well, perhaps he deserves that. Finally, Kazami sighs. "Normally, you should've met him already. I suppose there's no harm in telling you."

A fair amount of murmuring starts up at those words. Shuichi wonders if everyone in the medium-sized office room was eavesdropping on the conversation.

Kazami continues, "As you likely suspect, Agent Akai, the man you call Amuro Tooru is in fact our inspector - Furuya Rei. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to get in contact with him for the past two weeks. He told us that the Organization suspected him then fell off the map. We would greatly appreciate any information you have."

He laces his fingers together on his desk and meets Shuichi's eyes steadily.

"A… contact of mine tracked him down to his apartment," Shuichi says, deciding to omit any mention of the apparent age of his contact. "When my contact talked with him at his apartment, Amuro-kun gave him the message, 'No problems. Don't come.'"

"No problems, don't come," Kazami echoes, his brow furrowing - he looks rather troubled. "Thank you for the information, Agent Akai."

"No problem, Sergeant Kazami," Shuichi says calmly. He cocks his head to the side. "In my personal opinion though - I don't think Amuro-kun is fine."

Kazami sighs. "In my personal opinion, Agent Akai - I agree with you."

They exchange sour laughs, and all of a sudden, he feels a sense of kinship with Kazami.

"If you need any help with anything relating to him, just say the word," Shuichi offers.

"I'll keep it in mind," says Kazami, nodding shortly.

Shuichi nods back, just as shortly, before making his way out of the room. For a second time, he ignores the piercing stares of the police officers he walks past - and perhaps it's just wishful thinking, but he feels like the gazes are a little less hateful now.

* * *

He shoves a cigarette into an ashtray and immediately lights another one.

"Shuu, is everything alright?" Jodie asks, raising an eyebrow. She's sitting next to him in the break room, checking something on her phone.

"Fine," he says shortly.

They've been run ragged in the past couple weeks - Calvados may have been a lower-ranked agent, but he was still codenamed. He had enough information to allow them to actually coordinate some minor strikes against the Organization, mainly against some gun trafficking rings.

Conan had contacted him to tell him that the tracker had been destroyed the day after he got into contact with Amuro - or maybe he should be thinking of him as Furuya now?

Shuichi hadn't even had the time to check if the apartment Amur- Furuya had been living in was empty now, but he had no doubt it was. Furuya wouldn't have gone to the effort to destroy the tracker if he was just going to stay in the same place.

He would just have to hope that Furuya kept himself alive.

(Because hopes worked so well last time, a voice mutters in his head.)

He sighs. "Let's get back to work."

* * *

Things calm down.

They're back on the defensive - information on the Organization has dried up and Organization operatives themselves are as elusive as ever.

There's no news from Furuya, but no dead body pops up either, and in the end, after all these weeks, Shuichi doesn't really think that Furuya has ever been the type of person to die so easily.

(Shuichi can't really afford to waste any more time thinking that.)

So he concentrates on work and trying to spend more time with Akemi, and things seem to be going decent with the latter if not the former. They can't go outside together, but Shuichi brings her flowers for Valentines', she sets up candles, and they have a nice night together.

The day after Valentines', he meets up with James early in the afternoon to discuss work. It's nothing unusual, nothing out of the ordinary. Only when he approaches James' car, his eyes narrow, because James is looking unusually solemn.

"Hey, James," he greets with a small wave, and then waits, because he's sure James will give him an update soon enough.

True to his expectations, James nods in greeting then says, "Akai-kun, we've received some disheartening news today."

"Oh?"

James says something.

There's a roaring in his ears and the words don't quite register.

He blinks a couple times, staring at James, before saying calmly, "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

James looks up at him, his lips turning down in a small gesture of worry. "That's not like you, Akai-kun. I said that-"

James' mouth is moving again. Shuichi stares, a little blankly, and then shoves down the flatout denials threatening to escape his mouth in favour of a line of questioning that was a bit more logical.

"I see," he says coolly, "How certain is this?"

"Quite certain - the PSB managed to run a fingerprint match with a nearby witness' phone," James explains. He shakes his head, looking a little sad. "Apparently he briefly borrowed it shortly before the incident. It's quite the loss to our side."

Shuchi nods shortly. He lets himself talk, lets himself ask about what their next move is, all while a cold feeling sinks itself into his stomach like a shard of ice that won't melt, not this time.

Furuya Rei is dead.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **(◡‿◡✿)**

 **(this is not the end)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just realized I never posted this on this site. FYI, my newer stories are all up on AO3 (same username as here, viridiansky) - I'm really not a fan of this site's UI/UX and I get a lot more feedback on AO3 aha.**

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

After a fitful night's sleep, Shuichi decides he won't believe it, not until he sees a proper body and maybe even not then.

This was _Bourbon_. He would pop up a few months later with a smirk on his face and a mocking look to his eyes and the only thing he would say would be, "What, Akai, you thought I was actually dead?"

But he doesn't want to just wait for that to happen, because having Furuya get one over him again would really be rather irritating.

(He doesn't want to wait for it to happen, because if it isn't going to happen…)

So he decides to investigate the death. With the Organization as quiet as it was at the moment, figuring out the details of Furuya's death - of Furuya's 'death' - was as good of a lead as anything else.

He tries to bully the PSB's coroners into letting him see the body but fails. He does manage to get ahold of an autopsy report though.

Unfortunately it's mostly a dead end - the body in the photos is too badly burnt to be identified. It's only because Furuy- the _body_ was wearing gloves that his fingerprints mostly survived.

It's not a complete dead end though, because while Bourbon did often wear gloves, the charred remains on this body's hands look different from the gloves Shuichi recalls so well. They seem to be the same kind of shape, certainly, but they're clearly thicker and lined with fire-resistant material on the inside. It's suspicious, very suspicious, and if Shuichi latches onto the clue a bit more quickly than he really should've, well, no one will know but him.

He also asks about the witness whose phone they supposedly used to verify the fingerprints - because if there was a trick here, he suspects it would be there - but sadly the PSB investigators don't give in. They refuse to tell him any information about the witness due to 'confidentiality' and because they've 'already confirmed Inspector Furuya's death to a satisfactory extent'.

They won't even tell him which operative killed Furuya.

Shuichi just clicks his tongue at them and storms out of the office. He'll just have to investigate on his own - he's used to that.

(And when he figured out which Organizative operative was the one to kill Furuya, he would do his utmost to ensure _he_ was the one to shoot a bullet between their eyes.)

* * *

He's invited to Furuya's funeral. A normally stoic woman - a senior police officer he's seen running around in Kazami's squad a few times - is the one to surreptitiously extend him the invitation after a joint meeting.

She trips over the word 'funeral' as she invites him and walks away a little too quickly. He can't blame her.

Shuichi has no intention of attending Furuya's funeral, though he feels a little regretful after they went out of their way to invite him.

But he refuses to believe Furuya is dead.

(If he goes to his funeral he might have to admit it.)

* * *

Two weeks after Furuya's 'death' he gets a text from Akemi, and he feels a jolt of horror shoot through him because in his single-minded focus he had completely forgotten to text her about - anything.

The text is short but decidedly not sweet.

 _Are you free tonight? I want to talk._

His first instinct, first urge, is to give an immediate yes, to go a step further and say he'll come immediately.

But tonight, he's managed to set up a meeting with one of Furuya's former clients - one of the people Furuya had helped as a private eye. He hopes that she might be able to give some insight into Furuya that Shuichi didn't know. He can't abandon the meeting for his personal woes.

(If he had worried a little more - if he had actually tried to track Furuya down instead of letting it go, then maybe -)

So instead he just sends:

 _I'm free after nine._

An hour later - it's well into the afternoon by then - he gets a response.

 _Okay. See you then._

* * *

He's meeting a woman named Kamon Hatsune tonight - single, a relatively unpopular fashion blogger, apparently has a twin brother she only learned about recently. Shuichi only found her because as he was trawling through the Internet for anything of interest, he discovered Kamon's blog. She had made a blog post where at the very end, as almost an afterthought, she thanked a 'Detective Amuro' for 'saving her from doing something rash during a tough part of her life'.

Naturally, it piqued his curiosity.

He was pleasantly surprised when the woman had tentatively agreed to meet with him for dinner to talk about how she knew Furuya.

He pretended that he was just a fellow private eye trying to track down a friend who disappeared, rather than an FBI agent trying to prove a PSB agent faked his death.

Shuichi sets up the meeting in a very public family restaurant to keep her at ease - any information she might have couldn't be really confidential either way.

He thought he wouldn't hear anything more unbelievable than Akemi's story of Bourbon saving her, but Kamon's story puts it to shame.

"I was going to get married, you know," is what she starts out with, voice a little wretched, a little heart-broken. Shuichi stares and doesn't stop until she finishes her story.

Furuya had approached her and her twin brother - her then-fiancé - and told them he had been investigating the fire that they had been saved from as babies, and then that he had reason to believe that they were twin siblings. Her brother, Banba, didn't believe him but Kamon had her own suspicions and decided to contact a clinic to have a DNA test done.

She admits quietly that she was at a loss when she found out what Furuya said was true, that she didn't know what to do. But Furuya followed up with her, sat her down at Café Poirot, gave her a nice slice of cake on the house, and talked.

Talked about how he was an orphan too, that he never knew his family. Talked about what he would've given to find any of his family, what he still might be willing to give up today. Asked her what she would've given, as a child, to find any of her family.

"And it wasn't as if it didn't hurt," Kamon murmurs, the look on her face subdued. "It still hurt, it still _hurts,_ and I love - I loved Raita so much. But hearing him say that, it reminded me of everything I wanted as a child - to find my family. And it made me want to give things a chance after all, to try to be a family even if it wasn't in the way I wanted."

Kamon rubs at one of her eyes with a hand and Shuichi tactfully averts his gaze for a moment. When he turns back towards her, she's standing up from her booth seat, expression melancholic.

"I'm sorry for spending this whole time talking, it's just I haven't really had anyone to talk to about the whole thing," says Kamon, "Thank you for listening - I hope it was of some help. If you find Detective Amuro, Moroboshi-san, could you just tell him - thank you? If he hadn't talked to me then, I think I would've done something I would really regret. I really appreciate what he did for me."

Her voice still sounds a little heartbroken, but the smile she gives him as she leaves is calmer than it had been earlier that evening. Though she's almost a complete stranger, Shuichi still feels somewhat glad he could be of help in return for her cooperation - because while the information was useless towards his hunt for Furuya, it was intriguing nonetheless.

It was yet another example of Furuya knowing things that were strange for him to know, and while that may be Furuya's _job,_ Shuichi still suspects there's something more to Furuya's strange knowledge.

(Aside from that, of course, he also got a small tidbit about Furuya's background, about what made him the person he was, and he's surprised at how eagerly his mind grabbed at the new information and squirreled it away.)

So when he leaves the family restaurant shortly after Kamon, his feelings are mixed.

The story he had heard was horrifying - he has no idea what he would do if he found out the person he loved was actually related to him.

But he can't help but be a little cheery at the new information on Furuya, so it's with a mixed heart that he heads to Akemi's apartment.

* * *

When Akemi opens the door for him, she doesn't step aside to let Shuichi in. Instead, she stands in the doorway, body still and face serious.

"Shuichi-kun," she says calmly.

Shuichi furrows his brow. "...Akemi?"

Akemi closes her eyes, takes a breath, two, and says quietly, "Should we break up?"

He freezes, throat running dry, and opens his mouth to say something, anything - "Akemi-"

"Are you happy, Shuichi-kun, being with me?" asks Akemi, glancing downwards, and Shuichi reaches a hand out to lightly touch her shoulder. It's immediately shrugged off, and so he brings his hand back, frowning.

"Of course I am," Shuichi tells her. It was _Akemi._ They spent so long wanting to see each other, wanting to be together and -

-and Shuichi doesn't even spend time with her, and when he does he's distracted. No wonder Akemi is feeling insecure.

She sighs, ever-so-softly - he barely catches the sound of her breath coming out of her mouth.

"Even if you say that…" she says, then shakes her head. "I'm not just blaming you, Shuichi-kun. These past two weeks - I could've messaged you. But I didn't either, because - I didn't want to."

"Akemi-"

"-Just, listen, please," says Akemi, cutting Shuichi off. He shuts his mouth, and she continues, "Even on Valentine's, it felt like we were going through the motions more than anything else. It was nice for the day, but the next day things immediately went back to normal - to nothing. I want you to really ask yourself - do you still love me?"

"Yes," Shuichi says immediately, with no hesitation, and Akemi just shakes her head again. He frowns, a little annoyed at her dismissal.

"I'm not sure if I love _you_ anymore," Akemi says softly, and Shuichi's mouth slams shut. She continues, "I love Dai-kun. I- I love the Dai-kun in my mind, but that's not you, and I don't think that was even ever you. I think I've built you up in my mind too much, Shuichi-kun - can you say you haven't?"

"I-" Shuichi closes his eyes. "If I made you think that you need to be something you aren't, I'm sor-"

"-That's not it," Akemi cuts in with another sigh, and Shuichi opens his eyes again only to take in Akemi's quiet, yet all-to-determined look on her face. "It's not what you've done, it's what I think - and what you haven't done."

"What I _haven't_ done?"

"Shuichi-kun, why don't you ask questions about me?" asks Akemi, and Shuichi frowns in confusion.

"But I do?" replies Shuichi. He asks about her job as a waitress, about how she's been, about whether anyone's seemed suspicious around her… admittedly, he usually only asks after she asks first, but he's never been one to strike up conversation for the sake of it.

"You don't ask about who I am," Akemi says quietly. "You don't ask how I feel about growing up in the Organization, how it was like having a genius sister while you were just normal. You don't ask the questions you couldn't back when we were both in the Organization, and - neither do I, because I'm afraid of breaking the image I have of you in my head."

He stares and wants to say that he was just being considerate, that he just wanted to give her a rest from thinking about the Organization - and while that might be true, it wasn't the whole truth, not really, because the truth was he didn't think to ask. He didn't feel the urge to, and - maybe it was because he thought he knew her already.

Or maybe it really was because he didn't want to learn that he didn't, because Akemi is staring up at him with sad eyes and he still doesn't feel the curiosity, because something in him is still telling him to let Akemi forget her past, to let it all disappear.

He's been quiet for too long - Akemi tilts her head to the side and asks, a touch nervously, "Shuuichi-kun?"

He still loves her, he's sure. He still feels something indescribably soft when he looks at her, and the idea of anything happening to her makes his stomach drop. But he doesn't want to pressure her especially when she's so dependent on him still and -

(- and somewhere along the line he lost the urge to kiss her. Instead all that remains is an overwhelming urge to protect her.

An urge that's probably terribly stifling for her.)

Shuichi lets out a quiet sigh and murmurs, "Let's break up."

* * *

A month passes and the results of Shuichi's investigation are nothing. Zero.

Tracking down people Furuya helped as Amuro is interesting but ultimately fruitless. He learns that Furuya knows much too much about everyone and anyone, and not enough about who he might've relied on.

(He learns that Furuya may have not relied on anyone, and that's something he really should've known from the start.)

In a moment of frustration he swipes files he really shouldn't have in an attempt to find the witness who provided the cellphone with Furuya's fingerprints. Unfortunately, the files are all heavily blacked out, and so none contain any useful info.

At least he's still been talking with Akemi, though just by text - Akemi's sudden request to break up had been an eye-opener. So he's been trying. He texts her about little things still, like how she's been doing, and how things are going at work. She's been responsive, and knowing she's doing well always makes him glad, even if only temporarily.

But things aren't going well on the Organization front. They've gone back through the patient list from when Vermouth was disguised as Araide - there were a few visitors that stood out, some announcer, a police officer, a schoolteacher. So they put them all under surveillance, but none of them make suspicious movements.

Until one does and the PSB tells them to do nothing.

* * *

" _What!?_ " Jodie is snapping, her eyes flashing. She slams a hand on the conference room table and glares at the PSB agents across from them. They're in another joint meeting - one that for once, they called - to share the new information about Mizunashi Rena making suspicious movements.

Only the PSB rejected the information outright and said to not act on it.

Shuichi's feelings mirror Jodie's at the moment, but he simply settles for gazing coolly towards Kazami to express his displeasure.

Kazami is unmoved.

"We are aware that Mizunashi Rena is a member of the Organization," he says, lacing his fingers together on the table. "She may be a useful asset - we would appreciate it if you didn't make a move against her."

"And _how,_ exactly, can she be a useful asset?" demands Jodie. She's clearly the most frustrated, and little wonder - her subordinates had been the ones to discover the new lead after weeks of nothing.

"We have information that assures us she will be," Kazami replies stiffly, not at all answering the question.

Shuichi narrows his eyes. "Where - no, _when_ did you get this info?"

"Is that relevant, Agent Akai?" Kazami hedges, and Shuichi can't help but pounce on the weakness like the hound he was.

"If it was _after_ Furuya-kun 'died'," Shuichi says calmly, "I would questi-"

"-Agent Akai," interrupts Kazami. He brings his gaze up to meet Shuichi's eyes steadily, and Shuichi stares back. Kazami continues, voice firm, "Furuya-san is dead."

\- and Shuichi can't help the way his fists clench, even as he says coolly, "I'm well aware."

Jodie is looking up at him with a curious look, and Shuichi holds back a grimace - he's going to have some explaining to do later.

"Then we would appreciate it if you acted that way," says Kazami, tone blunt, and Shuichi finds himself rather irritated despite himself.

He doesn't understand why the PSB so quickly decided that Furuya is dead, and doesn't want to understand, if he was being perfectly candid. It spoke of a distinct lack of curiosity he didn't like in people that were technically his allies.

(Or it just spoke of people better equipped to face reality than he was.)

Kazami lets out a sigh, "But your suspicions aren't completely off the mark."

"Kazami-san…" hisses an officer sitting next to Kazami. Shuichi barely catches it from across the table. She leans in and whispers something more into Kazami's ear, but Shuichi can't hear it.

"I'll talk with the higher-ups," Kazami says calmly, loud enough for anyone to hear. "From the fact that the FBI called this meeting at all, it's clear that they didn't know after all. There shouldn't be any problems with telling them."

The officer leans back in her seat, seeming placated.

Jodie crosses her arms. "Telling us what, exactly?"

"Mizunashi Rena is a CIA agent," Kazami explains, and Shuichi sees Jodie choke. His eyes widen a touch himself.

...They really needed better inter-organization communication in America, didn't they?

"I see…" says Jodie, still looking bewildered. "How did you learn this?"

"She approached us herself after Furuya-san's death," Kazami explains, then with a touch of anger that isn't quite hidden away, "She said Furuya-san let himself be killed by her in exchange for her cooperation with us."

\- and a wedge of ice lodges itself in Shuichi's stomach.

* * *

He listens to the explanation half on auto-pilot.

As Kazami explains it, Furuya believed he had nowhere to run - he was certain that he was going to be revealed as a NOC by someone with concrete evidence. On the other hand, Mizunashi - codename Kir - was suspected only because of Gin's sharp instincts.

So Furuya made a deal with Kir - he'd let her kill him in order to regain trust in the Organization, but in exchange, she would forward any information she had to the PSB as well as the CIA.

Shuichi is admittedly a bit surprised that Kir kept her side of the deal, but he supposes the guilt might have eaten at her - or more likely, Furuya had done something to ensure her compliance.

(He can understand that all too well.

He can understand that, and yet he still can't help but detest her, resent her in a way he thought he'd only ever feel towards Gin.

A little numbly, he wonders how Furuya ever worked past this kind of hatred.)

Shuichi manages to successfully slip Jodie after the meeting, because he doesn't really want to explain anything right now, but unfortunately for him, luck isn't on his side. When he exits the bathroom, he runs straight into Kazami.

"Sergeant Kazami," he greets shortly, then makes to leave, only to be stopped by Kazami calling out to him.

"Agent Akai, wait," Kazami says, and Shuichi reluctantly turns back around.

"Yes?"

"Agent Akai," Kazami says again, then shakes his head minutely. "No, Akai-san. If you can take a break for a moment, there's something I would like to talk to you about. About Furuya-san."

And well, how can Shuichi say no to that?

* * *

They go to the rooftop and in the cool open air, Shuichi doesn't bother resisting the urge to light a cigarette. He offers Kazami one as well, but it's politely refused.

He leans back against a metal railing to face Kazami, cigarette held loosely in his left hand. The man stands stiffly a couple paces away, hands clasped behind his back.

"So?" Shuichi asks, "What did you want to talk about?"

Kazami looks up at the sky and lets out a deep sigh. Some of the tension seems to leak from his body. Still looking upwards, quietly, Kazami says, "Furuya-san mentioned you a lot."

"Oh?"

Kazami looks back forwards and smiles wryly. "I could really tell how much he hated you, and I admit that did colour my opinion of you somewhat."

"Ah," is the only thing Shuichi says to that, and that wedge of ice that lodged itself into his stomach sharpens into a painful spike.

Shuichi supposes Bourbon had always been an excellent actor.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Kazami says immediately, shaking his head. "What I mean is, I _was_ really able to tell how much he hated you - until one day about eight months ago now. It was as if his opinion made a complete one-eighty in less than a week…"

"Less than a week?" Shuichi echos, frowning slightly.

That was odd - even if that was when Furuya learned about the truth behind Scotch's death, he can't imagine it would be enough to change his opinion so radically. While Shuichi can't quite believe that Furuya knew the entire time as Furuya claimed, he does think that what Furuya said about still hating him for months even after finding out the truth rang true.

Reversing his opinion so quickly made no sense.

"I was actually hoping you might be able to shed light on why," Kazami says, then shrugs and lets out a small sigh. "But it seems you don't know either."

"No," Shuichi replies, "Until Furuya-kun approached me around six months ago, I hadn't seen him for years. The last I knew, he wanted to kill me."

"I see…" murmurs Kazami. He meets Shuichi's eyes steadily, and says - a little louder - "Akai-san."

Shuichi cocks his head to the side.

"If you had to be frank," Kazami asks, "What was Furuya-san to you?"

A friend, is what he'd like to say. But what he _wants_ to say isn't necessarily what actually was.

"I don't know," Shuichi says truthfully. He lets himself laugh once - shortly, drily. "For most of our acquaintance, I wasn't able to trust him. And when I could, he was gone."

Kazami nods, expression neutral. "I suppose that's understandable."

"That being said," Shuichi continues, because while he's not really one to talk about himself, he wants to say this out loud at least once, now there might be no reason to say it anymore - "I still considered him a friend in the Organization before our- falling-out, and by the time he disappeared, I considered him one again."

He takes a drag of his cigarette and looks somewhere off into the distance towards the high-rise buildings, away from Kazami's eyes.

"But who knows what Furuya-kun thought of me," Shuichi finishes.

They stand in silence for a number of moments. It's enough time for Shuichi to finish his cigarette, but as he stubs it out on the rooftop railing and considers lighting another, Kazami speaks up again.

"I felt similarly," Kazami admits, and it's enough to drag Shuichi's attention back onto him.

"You worked with him as Furuya Rei," Shuichi notes, a little curious.

"That's correct," Kazami says, inclining his head. "But our relationship is- was always a boss-subordinate relationship. Still - I considered him a friend, even if perhaps he saw me as nothing but an underling."

And Shuichi doesn't know what to say to that, because he doesn't know Furuya Rei enough to say that Furuya wouldn't be that cruel.

Instead, he just smiles wryly. "Furuya-kun is hard to read, isn't he?"

"Was," Kazami corrects quietly.

"Was," Shuichi repeats, mainly because it would be a pain to argue.

Kazami nods shortly, then glances to the side, his expression awkward. "Thank you for humouring me about this, Akai-san."

"It was useful," says Shuichi. Any clues he could drop into the little box marked 'The Bourbon Mystery' in his mind was useful.

"I'm glad," Kazami says, but doesn't leave like Shuichi expects him to. Instead, a shadow of darkness falls over his face, and he continues, "There was one other thing I wanted to talk about."

"Oh?"

"It's about the man you call Scotch," Kazami clarifies, and Shuichi keeps his expression neutral and mind blank.

"You knew him?" he asks.

"I did," Kazami answers, "I heard two stories of his death - one from before Furuya-san's change in heart about you, and one afterwards. But either way, I never believed you - or Furuya-san - were responsible for his death."

Shuichi furrows his brow and stares at Kazami, but all he sees in Kazami's expression is certainty.

"He was the type of person who could do anything for his friends and family," Kazami continues, "Once he had decided to kill himself to save them, there would've been nothing even Furuya-san could do, let alone you."

The insult is mildly irritating, but Shuichi lets it slide.

"...He was willing to accept FBI help," Shuichi says shortly, "He only died because I got distracted."

"And Furuya-san said he only died because _he_ distracted _you_ ," Kazami counters, "But the truth is that he only died because that was the kind of person he always was, and you wouldn't have been able to do anything" - he lets out a dry laugh - "because I'm sure now, you were a friend he was protecting too."

And Shuichi can't say anything more.

* * *

He's cornered by Jodie after work. She drops into the passenger seat of his car with a amiable enough smile, but by the look on her face he can tell that Jodie plans to make him _talk,_ and he's really not in the mood.

So he talks before she can.

"I worked with Bourbon a few times in the Organization," Shuichi says, "I suspected he might be a NOC too. Is that all you want to know?"

"You spent the last month chasing after a man you 'worked with a few times'?" asks Jodie skeptically, and Shuichi holds back the urge to click his tongue.

"You knew?" he says, because he hadn't exactly explained the details of what he had been doing to his colleagues.

"I guessed just now, based on how you've been acting - and what Sergeant Kazami implied today," responds Jodie, crossing her arms.

Shuichi lets out a small sigh. Sometimes he forgets how perceptive Jodie can be when she wants to be.

"I worked with him a lot," Shuichi amends, "And he was never the type of person to sit back and die like this."

"But you knew Bourbon, not Inspector Furuya, right?" Jodie points out, completely reasonably. Completely reasonably, and enough for another spike of ice to pierce through his stomach.

"I can't imagine Bourbon" - and Amuro Tooru - "was all completely a lie."

Jodie peers at Shuichi curiously, and whatever she sees makes her eyes widen. She uncrosses her arms.

"Huh," she says in mild wonder, "I haven't seen you look like this in a while."

\- and Shuichi schools his expression, too late.

(He doesn't know what expression he had been wearing, but he's sure it had been something he didn't want others to see.)

"If you would just talk to us, we would help you, you know," Jodie says, sounding tetchy.

"If I need help, I'll say so," responds Shuichi, and it's not _completely_ a lie.

The sigh Jodie lets out at that is offensively long-suffering.

"How's your investigation going?" she asks.

Shuichi glances at Jodie with a touch of surprise. "Not telling me to drop it?"

"Shuu, I've known you for years," Jodie says dryly, "In all that time, I've never seen you act completely out of emotion. You must have reasons for doing this other than 'I don't want my friend to be dead.'"

"...I didn't say he was my friend."

"I can read between the lines, Shuu."

Shuichi sighs, decides he doesn't want to get into it, then says - a bit reluctantly - "My investigation's reached a dead end."

"Have you talked to Conan-kun already?" Jodie asks, and Shuichi whips his head to stare at Jodie.

"Why talk to that boy?" he asks sharply.

Jodie blinks up at him and raises an eyebrow.

"Because it was his cellphone that the PSB used to verify Inspector Furuya's death?"

* * *

Shuichi doesn't immediately approach that boy. Though he hasn't seen much of the boy, what little he _has_ seen makes him certain that Conan was involved in whatever trick Furuya used to fake his death.

So instead he starts looking into the people around the boy and watches for any irregularities. He can't spend all his time watching, because while they've been given a certain amount of freedom with few leads on the Organization, he still helps out with various investigations around the city.

Still, he investigates a fair amount, which is why he's not entirely surprised when a couple weeks after he begins his investigation, a little brown-haired girl walks up to him when he's sitting in his car, a few minutes from Teitan Elementary.

"You're an eyesore," she says, and Shuichi immediately knows who this is.

"Hello, Shi- Ai," he replies, looking down at the girl. She's wearing a shiny red backpack and it's mid-afternoon - she must be coming back from school.

He's a little curious though, because while Sherry never hesitated to tell him exactly what she thought of him the few times they met, he's heard that she's gotten more timid since she shrank. Her coming up to him seems uncharacteristically bold, even with Vermouth and thus any immediate danger gone.

But looking carefully, he can see her shaking slightly. So she is still scared - just hiding it well.

"Do you think I'm going to greet the person who made Onee-chan cry?" Shiho demands, sounding pissed enough the small trembling is almost unnoticeable.

"Akemi was the one to break up with me," Shuichi says drily, and Shiho scoffs.

"And why do you think she did that?" she demands.

It's disheartening to hear that he made Akemi cry, but he never meant to. He would never mean to. "Do you want me to apologize?"

"I doubt you would," says Shiho, then shakes her head. "...Besides, I never thought you were good for Onee-chan."

"Oh?"

"Onee-chan deserves a normal life," she explains, then stares up at him with cold eyes. "Could you ever give that to her?"

Shuichi stares back into those eyes and finds himself at a loss for words.

He changes the topic. "Is that the only reason you came up to me?"

She scowls a little, then asks, "What are you doing here? Vermouth is gone. If it's still to protect me, I don't- I don't need it."

"I'm looking for someone I know," Shuichi answers easily, because from the way Shiho's acting, he feels she might be willing to let some things slip to get him to leave the vicinity.

Shiho narrows her eyes. "The dead friend? The one Onee-chan says you're obsessed with?"

"Something like that, yes," Shuichi replies, letting the obsession comment slide. It was a silly comment anyways. He just didn't want everything to go the way Furuya planned, that was all, and Furuya's knowledge of the Organization was too precious to let disappear for too long.

(He just didn't want to have lost another friend, that was all.)

"And if you find him, you'll leave this area?" Shiho asks.

"So long as there's no other Organization-related activity in the city," Shuichi responds.

Shiho looks displeased at that. "Promise me you'll stay away from Teitan Elementary at least."

Shuichi hesitates, because if an incident _does_ happen in or near Teitan Elementary, he can't really promise he won't come back. But this is the best lead he's had in over a month, and so he finds himself saying, "I promise."

Shiho nods slowly, then says, "Okiya Subaru."

"Sorry?"

"Okiya Subaru," Shiho repeats, crossing her arms. "Edogawa-kun met him for the 'first time' a couple weeks ago but he _really_ trusts him for some reason. You should look into him. I don't like him."

"...Where does he live?" Shuichi asks.

"You can look up some things for yourself, can't you?" Shiho says harshly, and Shuichi shrugs. He _can_ , but it would be easier to have someone who knows the information already to give it to him.

But a name was more than enough.

"Thank you, Ai," he says sincerely.

"Hmph," she says. She twirls around and walks off - if her pace is a little fast, Shuichi tactfully doesn't comment on it.

He watches her go, then immediately turns on the ignition in his car. He has a promise to keep, then an Okiya Subaru to find.

* * *

It takes a couple days, but he finds an 'Okiya Subaru' living in Beika City. According to the student profile he finds online, he's an undergraduate engineering student going to Touto University, aged twenty-four.

The younger age doesn't faze him. It would be easy for Furuya to pass as someone in their early twenties - he's barely changed since Shuichi knew him only as Bourbon.

Finding where Okiya Subaru lives, however, is a little harder. He eventually resorts to looking up the typical schedule of a fourth-year Touto engineering student and poking his head into every class he finds, under the guise of 'looking for his little brother's friend, Okiya Subaru'.

But despite all his efforts, he eventually finds Okiya Subaru because Okiya Subaru finds him.

"I heard you were looking for me," a cool voice calls out from behind him.

Shuichi turns around and there, standing in the hallway, is someone who appears to be a young man. With black hair and skin that isn't tanned dark, he looks quite different from Furuya.

Shuichi doesn't let it faze him, however. A disguise was expected.

"Are you Okiya Subaru?" he asks.

"I am," Okiya replies, and the voice is just so indifferent and disinterested Shuichi can't help but be a little taken aback. Even Bourbon at his most Bourbon was never this… emotionless.

But a different personality was also something he would expect from Bourbon, who could act as good as a Hollywood actor if he felt up to it.

(And if nobody stepped on the few tripwires that set off his temper - which naturally, Shuichi always seemed to do on a regular basis.)

"I was hoping we could talk," Shuichi says politely.

"And why would a suspicious person like you want to talk with me?" asks Okiya, unimpressed.

"I'm not suspicious," tries Shuichi. His tone may not be convincing enough however, because he doesn't quite believe it himself.

"You're rather suspicious stranger," Okiya counters. He eyes Shuichi with a cold, condescending look. "You've spent the past few days stalking all my classes looking for me."

"I can't deny that," Shuichi admits. He considers taking out his FBI badge but refrains - it certainly wouldn't endear him to Furuya, if this was indeed him. "But you're a surprisingly hard man to find."

"I was skipping class," Okiya says, completely shamelessly. He cocks his head to the side, expression neutral. "What will you do if I don't talk with you?"

"I can't force you to talk with me," Shuichi hedges.

Okiya lets out a soft breath through his nose and gestures Shuichi to follow. "Come with me."

Shuichi blinks - he didn't expect things to be that easy - and so he's rather cautious as he steps after Okiya.

* * *

Shuichi follows Okiya into his apartment. There's nothing particularly of note in the entranceway. It's kept more or less clean, though not meticulously so - Shuichi can spot some dirt and dust piled up in one corner. Bourbon tended to be a little more messy in safehouses, but that didn't really say anything about whether Okiya was Furuya. Okiya would have much more time to clean than any of Furuya's other faces.

As Okiya crouches down to take off his shoes, he offers, voice disinterested, "I can prepare you a cup of coffee if you'd like."

"Do you often invite complete strangers in for a cup of coffee?" asks Shuichi, slipping off his own shoes.

Okiya straightens back up and looks back at Shuichi, expression neutral. "I'm not interested in trouble. You seemed like you would be trouble if I didn't humour you."

"I see," Shuichi says, rather thoughtfully. He smiles faintly then continues, "I would appreciate some coffee, yes."

Okiya gives Shuichi a short nod before heading through the hallway to enter the room at the end - it's a large living room with a kitchen area half-closed off in one corner. Shuichi restrains himself from clicking his tongue. There would be no sneaking off while Okiya made coffee.

So Shuichi sits himself down on the sofa in the middle of the room and waits. He glances around the room, but it's decidedly inoffensive. The furniture is definitely all new - a few months old at most - but 'Okiya Subaru' was supposed to have moved in recently anyways. There's no real personality to the room either - but 'Okiya Subaru' seems to be pragmatic and emotionless. It's vaguely irritating.

"Is something the matter?" asks Okiya mildly. He's walking over, bringing two cups of coffee. Before sitting down on a lounge chair across from Shuichi, he offers a cup to Shuichi - who accepts.

"No," Shuichi answers. He takes a sip of the coffee. It's black - completely black, not with one cream like the coffee that Amuro had prepared for him before. But he supposes Furuya wouldn't be the type to slip up through a cup of coffee.

"Very well," Okiya says, and Shuichi hears nothing but vague disinterest in the voice. Okiya takes a sip of his own coffee before continuing, "So?"

"So?" Shuichi echos, smiling faintly. He places his cup of coffee down on the coffee table in front of him.

If Okiya is irritated at the way Shuichi isn't getting to the point already, he doesn't show it. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I-" Shuichi begins, and he intends to finish his thought - only he spots something shining on the ring finger of Okiya's left hand. He stares despite himself, faint smile disappearing. "You're married, Okiya-san?"

Okiya lifts his left hand into the air, hand spread wide to give Shuichi a better view of the ring. It's a simple silver band - platinum, if Shuichi had to guess.

"That's correct," Okiya says shortly. He brings his hand back down to his lap.

"You're - who are you married to?" asks Shuichi, a little bewildered and a little unsure, because marriage is a very odd thing to include in a fake backstory without a partner to play the part.

"Why tell you when there's no reason for you to have met… her?" asks Okiya in return, and well, that logic isn't wrong, per se.

"I'm curious, that's all," Shuichi replies, then lets himself smile faintly again. "If you satisfy my curiosity, Okiya-san, I promise I won't cause you trouble."

"You already are," Okiya says coldly, then, a touch softer - "Well, I suppose I don't mind talking about her."

"Oh?"

Okiya places his cup of coffee down on the table as well, then runs a thumb over the ring on his left hand. The expression on his face is quietly melancholic and shows more emotion than Shuichi's seen since he's entered the apartment.

(Shuichi feels like he's seen this expression before, but he just can't remember when. He treats it as a point in favour of Okiya being Furuya anyways.)

"To be precise, I _was_ married," Okiya begins, and his expression is carefully shuttered again. "We dated for about two years, then married. We were married for nearly three."

"What happened?"

Okiya's voice is terribly neutral as he says, "She's happy with someone else now."

"...Condolences," Shuichi says awkwardly. He's not sure what to say - if Okiya isn't actually Furuya, if this story is real, then his response may be woefully inadequate.

"No need for condolences," Okiya says, shaking his head. "It's only right that h- she's with that someone else."

"You seem to have taken it rather well," says Shuichi, then his eyes narrow because he hasn't forgotten the real reason why he's here. "Almost as though it didn't happen."

Okiya scoffs, and shakes his head a second time. "I didn't take it well at all, Mr. Stranger. But it was something I always knew should've happened if things were different, so I worked past my petty hurt feelings. After all - do you know what she said to me when I proposed to her?"

"What did she say?"

"She told me that she couldn't give me her whole heart," Okiya explains, and Shuichi spots a pained expression flash over Okiya's face for a brief moment. "She told me that she loved me, but she was sure that at least half of her heart, if not more, was stolen away by this other, ah, man. And that she was sure that would be the case for the rest of her life, but if I would still have her, she would be happy to marry me."

Shuichi chokes, and the words come easily and sincerely out of his throat. "That's terrible. You still married her?"

"I really loved h- her," says Okiya, and Shuichi sees Okiya scowl for the first time. It's a faint scowl, but there's a hint of something cold and angry in those eyes. Okiya continues, "Besides, I was confident that other man would never be a factor. There was a reason why she was with me instead of ah, him, though I'm afraid that reason is private."

"Regardless," Shuichi says, voice disbelieving, "Being with someone you knew didn't love you as much as you did..."

Okiya's expression closes off. "I admit that it hurt sometimes, but most of the time I was just happy to be with h- her. She was the type of person to keep things close to her heart - she never let me see that she loved someone else more than me."

And Shuichi frowns, because the aborted pained expressions, the bitterness to his tone - it all sounded terribly genuine, like Okiya actually experienced all this. He had never seen Bourbon act out something completely alien to him this well. A seed of doubt sprouts in his mind as he stares at Okiya.

"So if she hadn't told you that she loved this person…" Shuichi trails off.

"I doubt I would've noticed, yes," Okiya finishes. "But I'm glad she did tell me. I prefer the cold truth to pretty lies."

"I see," Shuichi says, then nods at Okiya's left hand. "You still wear the wedding ring, even though she's left you?"

"I can be sentimental at times," Okiya says quietly. He lifts his hand up high into the air and stares at it. "This isn't the real ring, anyways - it's gone now. I just had a replica made, because I felt I could give myself that much."

He brings his hands down into his lap and laces them together before continuing, voice disinterested, "Does that satisfy your curiosity, Mr. Stranger?"

"...It does," Shuichi says, because he might have some questions still but Okiya's story has made it clear that either (a) Furuya has really thought deeply about Okiya's backstory or (b) Okiya is actually a real person.

He doesn't think pressing Okiya any further about his backstory will gain Shuichi anything. He could jump at Okiya and try to rip off a mask - or hell, rip off his shirt to see if the skin underneath was suspiciously darker - but if he was wrong, he has no idea how he would explain that one away.

"Will I be freed from your company then?" Okiya asks. The tone is dismissive, as if he couldn't care less what response he got.

So instead of answering, Shuichi asks in return, "Do you tell every suspicious stranger you meet your life story, Okiya-san?"

Okiya looks towards Shuichi, expression unreadable. "I'm a charitable person, Mr. Stranger. I like to warn others away from making my mistakes."

"Your mistakes?"

"Falling for someone I really shouldn't have." Okiya shrugs. "Deceiving myself into thinking it was a good idea. And" - Okiya laughs, coldly, derisively, and taps on his wedding ring with a finger - "as pathetic as it is, being unable to get over it, not really."

"I see," Shuichi says shortly, "I'll keep your warnings in mind, then."

"Though perhaps you shouldn't," Okiya says, a dark shadow falling over his face. "I'm petty enough about my woes that I'm hoping things aren't going well with _your_ partner, Mr. Stranger." Okiya pauses. "If you have one."

"I don't," replies Shuichi, and he sees Okiya's eyes widen. He composes himself quickly, but by then it's too late - Shuichi stares, and smiles sharply.

Now why would _Okiya Subaru_ be surprised that a stranger didn't have a romantic partner?

"I- I'm surprised to hear that you don't," Okiya says, and to his credit, by the end of the sentence he does manage to restore his indifferent tone of voice.

"Oh?" Shuichi says, sharp smile not disappearing. "Why?"

"...You're quite handsome," tries Okiya, and Shuichi chokes back a laugh.

"Are you flirting with me?" Shuichi can't help but ask, because now that he's seen a crack in Okiya's persona, he can't resist the urge to pry it open.

(It might be a little in bad taste considering the earlier topic, but in Shuichi's defense, _Okiya_ was the one to call him handsome first.)

"Wha-" Okiya starts, and the offended, irritated intonation is so terribly _Furuya_ Shuichi finds his smile softening. But then Okiya coughs and continues in a neutral voice, "No."

"I was dating someone until a month or so ago," Shuichi explains, curious to see how Okiya would react. "But somewhere along the way, both of us fell out of love."

"What," Okiya says flatly.

"Is that so shocking, Okiya-san?" Shuichi asks, cocking his head to the side.

Okiya stares up at Shuichi, and asks, ignoring Shuichi's question - "You really aren't in love with the woman you were dating anymore?"

"I never said it was a woman."

A scowl briefly flashes over Okiya's face before it's suppressed. But Shuichi still spots it, and he has to hold back a smile.

" _Was_ it a woman?" Okiya demands, and ah, that tetchiness is all-too-familiar.

"It was," Shuichi admits, "And yes, I don't l-" he hesitates, the words catching in his throat. He pivots. "I don't see her in that way anymore."

Okiya blinks up at him, expression unreadable. After a few moments of silence, he says. "I suppose it has nothing to do with me. My apologies for prying."

"I don't mind. It's something I'd like my friend to know," Shuichi says, and smiles sharply, "And you remind me of my friend."

"...I'm not your friend," Okiya says neutrally.

Shuichi shrugs. "That might be true, no matter who you are."

The stare Okiya gives him bores a hole through his skull.

"What are you really here for?" Okiya finally demands, and the tone is low and all-too-frustrated, all-too-emotional. "You must have some goal, some plan."

"Nothing like that," Shuichi says, and smiles because it's true. "Do I seem so scheming?"

The moment Okiya Subaru had agreed to let him in his apartment, he dismissed his initial plans as no longer being applicable. Because Bourbon has never been able to keep a cool head around him, not for long, and especially not if Shuichi purposefully tried to rile him up.

Okiya Subaru seemed to be a cool, composed persona - he did respect Furuya's acting skills in most cases, but Furuya should've known as well as he did that Furuya would very likely slip up _somehow_ around him.

And yet Okiya Subaru - and yet Furuya had invited him in anyways.

Okiya remains silent and closed off as Shuichi stands up from the sofa, but Shuichi doesn't care.

"Goodbye, Okiya- _kun_ ," Shuichi says.

"...That's all?" says Okiya. The eyes that stare up at him are a touch incredulous.

"I satisfied my curiosity," Shuichi says mildly, and doesn't bother to hold back a slight smile at Okiya's furrowed brow.

Furuya must've had some kind of plan, some kind of reasoning to so shamelessly invite Shuichi in then act so blatantly _Furuya_.

Shuichi doesn't intend to fall for it.

He would have Furuya reveal himself on his terms, not Furuya's, because he's tired of being jerked around by Furuya's manipulations.

(He may also be actually angry at the deception, because despite his immediate denial, a quiet place in the back of his mind began to genuinely _ache_ when he heard that Furuya was dead.

It still aches, because a quiet voice wonders if he's seeing Furuya where there's still none.)

Shuichi nods politely in farewell before leaving the room.

He's not stopped.

* * *

It's only a few days later when one of his subordinates runs up to him as he's sitting in his car, waiting for his subordinate's weekly report. The subordinate says, breathless, "You should see this."

He hands Shuichi a few loose pieces of paper - glancing at the top page, Shuichi can see that it's a wiretap transcript. This subordinate had been listening in on one of the people who had visited Dr. Araide when he was Vermouth, and it seems this transcript was based on that.

Shuichi reads through the first page and his eyes widen.

* * *

After he finishes his meeting with his subordinate, he drives some ways away, contemplative. It's a little after three p.m. and the sun is bright in the sky. He ends up not too far from Café Poirot, and he parks his car on the street.

He watches people walk by for some minutes before he taps a few buttons on his phone.

Shuichi presses his phone to his ear.

"Hey, Jodie," he says, "There's something I need to do."

* * *

It's nighttime, a day later - nearly midnight.

Shuichi jumps over a small plastic fence, ignoring the signs that declare 'DANGER: CONSTRUCTION ZONE', and strides into the ground floor of the half-constructed skyscraper. It's still covered in blue tarps in places and the night sky can be spied through holes in the barebones walls.

The flooring - at least in the lobby - has been mostly completed though. His shoes tap loudly on the shiny linoleum every step he takes, passing by a number of shadowed columns.

He stops in the middle of the lobby, and glances up towards the Tokyo skyline through one of the holes in the walls.

A bullet hits the floor and Shuichi drops to the ground, gripping his knee.

Figures step out from behind the columns - one, two, five. They're completely black and wear hoods - Shuichi can't make out their faces. One figure - standing somewhere in front of Shuichi - holds up a smartphone, the screen shining bright in the dim lobby.

Hysterical, furious laughter comes out of the phone.

"Don't get too comfortable, Rye! There's still more to come!" cries an angry, female voice from the phone.

Shuichi stares at the phone, his expression constricted in pain.

"You're Chianti," he says, genuinely a little surprised.

"Oh, so you know my name at least," she hisses, "That isn't going to stop me from making you feel ten times the pain Calvados did."

He hadn't expected this to be about Calvados, of all people.

"Calvados…" he trails off.

"The man you beat into pieces! The one you made betray the Organization!" Chianti snaps, " _That woman_ told me enough, bitch that she is. I can't touch her, but I can touch you at least. Didn't expect you to fall for this so easily - whatever. Two birds with one stone."

"I won't deny beating Calvados up," Shuichi admits dismissively, shrugging. "But I didn't make him do anything else. He gave up information on the Organization of his own free will - I hear the Japanese made a deal with him."

A furious scream comes out of the phone, followed by the familiar sound of a click. He splays himself on the ground fully and a bullet whooshes past his head. Half-straightening himself back up - getting back up on his knees - he stares at the new bullet hole in the linoleum floor.

That was actually a close one.

"Why don't we talk this over a bit?" Shuichi suggests lightly.

"No. You know what to do, everyone," comes the voice from the phone.

The man in front hangs up the call, slips the phone back into a coat pocket, then - along with the other figures around Shuichi - takes out a pistol.

Shuichi looks around and can't help but grimace. He doesn't want to - it's early still - but he'll have to-

A gunshot rings out and a bullet pierces the right arm of the man in front. He cries out in pain and drops his gun - the other figures look around wildly for the shooter, waving around their pistols.

He spots a silhouette he hadn't seen before in the shadows behind a metal column. So Shuichi stands up - no longer pretending his knee pains him - smiles sharply, and raises a hand high in the air.

Tranquilizer darts come down from above. Five figures fall to the ground, and the silhouette behind the metal column disappears.

Oh no, that wouldn't do.

"Take care of this!" he shouts towards the ceiling, then races towards the column, taking out his pistol. There's no wall behind it, just a blue tarp - and it's swaying. Shuichi slips behind it easily and steps out into the cool night air.

There's two paths he can take - both secluded alleyways, but only one eventually leads to a street that's busy even at this time of night. With no hesitation, Shuichi runs into the alleyway that leads to the busy street, and is rewarded by the sight of a white-hooded figure trying to escape.

He follows the figure through a few twists and turns, but just can't seem to catch up to him. So he raises his pistol, ever-so-calmly.

Aiming carefully, he shoots a couple times at a garbage can lid a few paces ahead of the figure. His aim is true - the lid bursts off and hits the man right in the side of his face. He yelps in pain and trips to the ground, lid clattering right after him - Shuichi can't help but wince.

Shuichi slips his pistol back onto his belt and saunters over to the collapsed figure, hands in his pockets.

Blazing blue eyes glare up at him, shadowed by a white hood, and a warm feeling wells up in his heart.

"Hello, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says, unable to hold back a touch of cheer from his voice. "It's been a few days, hasn't it?"

"Screw you, Akai," grumbles Furuya - actually, undoubtedly Furuya with dark skin and light hair peeking out from under the hood. He rubs at his cheek with a hand and scowls.

Shuichi holds out a hand to Furuya, and, after glaring up at him again, Furuya takes it. Shuichi helps him up, Furuya tearing his hand away as soon as he's standing up straight.

"Is this where you explain your diabolical plan?" Furuya quips, crossing his arms.

"I could leave it a mystery," Shuichi suggests, "Like the mystery of how a dead man is alive."

Furuya clicks his tongue, loudly. "Don't be petty, Akai."

"You can't deduce the truth?"

He gets a rather murderous look for that little comment, a look he feels is rather unwarranted. He shrugs. "I didn't know it would be Chianti with a grudge there tonight, but my subordinate mysteriously getting information on a black market deal happening the next day reeked of a trap."

"And you actually brought in backup," Furuya says, disbelief filling in his voice.

"I know when to bring help, Furuya-kun," responds Shuichi in amusement. And well, when he's gotten stung so badly in the past few months because of secrets he kept from Akemi and Jodie, he figures it couldn't hurt to be open a little more often.

Furuya uncrosses his arms only to buries his face into hands and let out a deep, strangled sigh. "The Organization made a trap for you and you made it a trap for me. How did you trick Conan into telling me?"

"I let him overhear a 'conversation' with Jodie over the phone," Shuichi explains, "I wasn't actually talking to anyone, but I spoke loud enough that I knew he would catch it as he was walking back home from school."

"And you bet on him telling me," Furuya mutters, looking back up with a scowl.

He had also bet on Shiho not being with Conan, because he _had_ promised to avoid Teitan Elementary, and the Mouri Detective Agency was admittedly rather close to the school.

"You're close enough for him to help fake your death, aren't you?"

Furuya glares at him, but doesn't deny it, so Shuichi takes that as a win. Furuya's face grows serious. "What about Chianti though? She wasn't in the building."

"I suspected there might be a sniper," explains Shuichi, "So I had people stake out buildings that were ideal sniping locations. With any luck, we've caught her."

"Hmph, luck," says Furuya derisively.

"Luck seems to be on my side," says Shuichi with a smile, only he really shouldn't have, because he should've known better to tempt fate like that.

But he does, and fate can't resist destroying his expectations.

A gunshot rings out.

And Furuya falls to the ground, eyes wide and shocked, as red, too much red sprays out.

Shuichi feels something wet splatter his face and finds he can't speak, his eyes wide, mouthing out words that he chokes on. But he forces himself to shove it all down in moments, even as the pattern of red blood seeping through Furuya's hoodie burns itself in Shuichi's eyes.

On autopilot, he makes to grab his pistol from his waist, only for a second bullet to whiz past his face, grazing his cheek. He feels blood dripping down his face and finally, he looks towards the shooter.

Vermouth stands there with a smug, satisfied look and he may have no idea what his expression looks like at the moment, but if even a fraction of the cold fury he's feeling at the moment has leaked out onto his face, he has no doubt that he looks absolutely merciless.

"Hello, Bourbon, Rye," she says, twirling the pistol in her hand with a smile.

He hears a groan behind him and resists the urge to flip around, to check on Furuya, because he can't afford to take his eyes off of Vermouth.

So Furuya's voice, even constricted in pain, is a deep relief to Shuichi.

"First time we've met for over a month and you-" Furuya coughs, the sound painful, "-shoot me?"

"Oh, Bourbon," Vermouth says sweetly, "You know what happens to traitors."

Furuya lets out a choked laugh.

"Don't talk, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says, allowing himself the briefest glance back at Furuya. It's not as bad as he had initially thought, thankfully - the bullet is through Furuya's shoulder and bleeding profusely, but it isn't a vital region.

He slips his hand back under his jacket to grab his pistol, only to freeze when a third gunshot rings out and Furuya _screams._

"Put your hands up, Rye," Vermouth says with a smile. "The next shot goes through his heart instead of his leg."

With no other choice, Shuichi slowly raises his hands in the air.

"Good boy," she says condescendingly, and god, at this very moment he might detest her more than Gin.

"You were with Chianti," Shuichi says coldly, and Vermouth laughs.

"Oh please, like that woman would let me anywhere near her if she could help it," she says mockingly, "No, I just made her think that it was _her_ idea to spring this mediocre trap. It was good camouflage for this, wasn't it?"

"What do you want?" Shuichi demands, hands still raised.

"Oh, I just wanted to lure Bourbon out," she says dismissively, "I thought putting his dear, dear Akai Shuichi in danger would help, but I didn't expect you to have similar goals to me. To think that he didn't tell you, of all people, that he was alive…"

'Dear, dear Akai Shuichi'?

'You of all people'?

Shuichi furrows his brows and doesn't bother holding back a semi-derisive scoff. "I doubt Bourbon holds me in _that_ high regard."

Vermouth's eyes widen a little, and she snickers, the sound remarkably irritating. "You don't know how he was found out as a NOC?"

"Vermouth," Shuichi hears Furuya hiss furiously, but Vermouth either doesn't hear or doesn't care.

"I spotted him visiting you," she explains, smiling. "Not just once or twice either. My, my, I do wonder just what you were doing together in all those hotels for you to get Bourbon to be so willing to take so many risks for you."

Shuichi ignores the suggestive wording - he's heard enough. Right now, the priority is escaping with Furuya and getting him to a hospital.

He's just found Furuya again, he'd be damned before he let Furuya die for real so quickly.

"You've caught us," he says coldly. He gives Vermouth a once-over, judging the distance between them, how fast she might shoot, how long it would take him to lower his hands. He continues, "What now?"

"Now, I have a few questions for Bourbon," she says, "Then I kill him."

He feels a cool fury settle itself in the forefront of his mind, shrouding his thoughts, and he really can't help the merciless glare. Vermouth is unmoved, however.

Furuya's voice sounds from behind again.

"You don't care if I reveal that you're the Boss'-"

"-You're a traitor now, Bourbon," she interrupts, "I'll take my chances on whether anyone would believe you."

As she talks, Shuichi uses the moment of distraction to take a step or two back. It's to give himself a better view of the whole situation - and to let him see Furuya.

Furuya's hoisted himself up halfway off the ground, pressing one hand against the still-bleeding shot on his shoulder and the other against the open wound in his upper thigh. And by god, he didn't expect the almost suffocating jolts of worry and horror that thread their way through the mist of cool anger.

He can't let Furuya bleed out. If they just keep her talking, Shuichi should be able to grab his pistol while she's distracted and-

-his thoughts cut off, because Furuya is looking up at him with a small smile and a knowing look, shaking his head. Like he knows what Shuichi is thinking.

 _Trust me,_ Furuya's eyes are saying, before turning back towards Vermouth, and Shuichi does.

"Vermouth, I'm sure you want to know how I found out about your secret," Furuya says, and while he's breathing a little heavily, the voice itself is steady, firm and determined, with only a touch of Bourbon's smugness. Shuichi stares and wonders if this is how Furuya Rei always makes his deductions. Furuya continues, "But the important thing here isn't that - it's that you didn't shoot Akai."

"What?"

"You didn't shoot Akai," Furuya repeats, face set. "You didn't shoot him because while he isn't the one you put your money on, he's still a silver bullet and you want him alive" - Vermouth is beginning to look rather furious, so Shuichi really hopes Furuya knows what he's doing - "because you want the Organization to die. You've been waiting for a silver bullet to kill it for eons, not in spite of your connection with the Boss, but because of it."

"Always so confident, Bourbon," Vermouth says, a dangerous tone to her voice, "Even when you're wrong."

"Am I-" Furuya lets out a short groan of pain before visibly gritting his teeth and continuing, "Am I wrong? You're not our friend, Vermouth - but you aren't exactly our enemy either," - and Shuichi has _many_ objections about that statement starting with Jodie's parents and ending with Furuya _getting shot by her twice_ , but forces his thoughts down - "So I have a proposition for you."

Vermouth scoffs, "You do understand the situation you're in right now?"

Ignoring Vermouth's commentary, Furuya just snaps, " _Let me be a silver bullet too."_

She stares at Furuya, eyes widening a tad, for a beat too long. Then, she lets out a laugh, a high, disbelieving laugh.

"You?" she asks with a snort, "Take down the Organization?"

"What do you have to lose?" demands Furuya, "You know me and my skills, Vermouth. I'm a better detective than Akai and I'll show everyone I'm a better detective than Kudo damn Shinichi."

...Kudo Shinichi?

"I don't doubt your _skills,_ Bourbon," she says dismissively, then with a cool, cruel smile, "I just doubt your loyalties. You're really still one of us, Bourbon, no matter what you tell yourself, and I doubt that'll ever change. Killing you has nothing to do with you being a NOC."

"... _What?_ " sputters Furuya, sounding so utterly flabbergasted and _offended_ it's a large relief to Shuichi.

"How long have you spent with us?" Vermouth continues, undeterred, "How much longer than you've spent on the side of the angels? Just how stained are your hands at this point, Bourbon?"

Furuya closes his eyes, takes a long breath - then takes another couple short breaths, wincing in pain - before finally opening his eyes again.

His eyes are narrowed, and the look in them is so sharp and determined Shuichi can't help but stare. Vermouth seems rather taken aback herself.

"I'm not on the side of the angels," Furuya says coolly, "I never was. But I'm still not on the side of the Organization, and I _never was._ I've done terrible things. I've killed people for a better tomorrow. But that's what the PSB is _for._ And if it's to protect my country" - his eyes narrow - "I'd do it a hundred times over."

Vermouth's expression is wiped of its knowing smile. It's carefully unreadable now, and she takes a step back, lowering her gun a inch or two.

She stares at Furuya for a few moments longer before saying, "It appears I've misjudged you, Bourbon."

Shuichi swears he can hear the slightest touch of disappointment to the voice.

She continues, an amused smile spreading on her face - "I'll let you go for tonight. I suppose that blackmail leaking on your death _is_ something I'd still prefer to avoid."

Furuya smiles - but the expression is strained and his face ashen.

And as soon as Vermouth disappears - Shuichi ignoring her, because god, there's still that mist of anger towards her in his mind but there's more important things to worry about at the moment - Furuya completely collapses to the ground.

(There's too much blood, so much blood, Furuya isn't splayed against the edge of a rooftop but it's close enough and-)

"Furuya-kun!"

The words jump out of his throat. Before he knows it, Shuichi drops to his knees and leans in - Furuya stares up at him with dazed eyes.

"Adrenaline gone," Furuya says with a cough.

"Are you alri-" Shuichi starts, then cuts himself off because no, obviously Furuya was not alright. "I'll call the hospital."

A hand grips his left wrist weakly before he can grab his cellphone.

"No police," mumbles Furuya. Shuichi looks back towards Furuya with a frown.

"But-"

"- _No police."_

"...Alright," Shuichi concedes, even while wondering how to explain away bullet wounds to the hospital.

Furuya smiles, still looking dazed. Shuichi gently removes Furuya's hand from his wrist and retrieves his cellphone from a pocket.

He's just called the emergency number when he hears a final mumble fall from Furuya's lips.

"...anks Shu...chi…"

Furuya's eyes fall shut, but Shuichi's are wider than ever.

 _Shuichi!?_

* * *

He manages to leverage the average person's lack of knowledge on FBI jurisdiction to shush any questions about Furuya's wounds for long enough to get in contact with James late the next morning. He manages to pass Furuya off as just a foreigner of Japanese descent, thanks to Furuya's odd colouring.

(As he lies to the hospital staff, he feels like he can actually hear Furuya snapping at him in offense.)

And so he pays for the hospital fees out of his pocket.

Shuichi just hopes James doesn't count under "police", but there's only so much he can do by himself.

In Furuya's private room at the hospital, James stares down at Furuya sleeping in bed - still too pale, but breathing easily at least - then looks back up at Shuichi, standing on the other side of the bed.

"We should be able to cordon off this hospital room without the PSB or local police noticing, at least for a few weeks," James says, "We'll keep it lowkey - just a couple agents."

"Thanks, James," says Shuichi.

James just nods shortly. "You've told me enough already, Akai-kun. Just get some sleep. The doctors said the man should be fine, didn't they?"

"Yes," Shuichi replies, nodding in return. "But danger might come from elsewhere."

"I can call Jodie-kun, then," James counters, "She can be here in minutes - you would trust her to stand guard, wouldn't you?"

Shuichi scowls a little, feeling vaguely irritated and not entirely knowing why. "...Yes, but…"

"You have bags under your eyes, Akai-kun," James says drily.

"That's not new," Shuichi points out reasonably, shrugging. He's not even feeling that tired - it's only been a few hours longer than a day since he last slept. He's stayed up for much longer before.

"That may be so, but…" James trails off, then sighs. "I'm sure you won't be of any use right now, Akai-kun. Sleep in a chair here if you must - the staff can give you a blanket."

It's only with reluctance that Shuichi agrees to James' suggestion, but James is looking more stern than usual - he just doesn't want to bother with arguing.

But when he finally closes his eyes on the chair, he's out cold in minutes.

* * *

"Akai?"

He wakes up to Furuya's confused voice and orange light streaming in through the window. There's a crick in his neck and his blanket fell off while he was sleeping, but he's had worse wake-up calls.

He blinks a few times, still groggy, before rubbing at his eyes with a hand. With some of the sleep rubbed from his eyes, he can properly make out Furuya half-sitting up in the bed, wearing a white hospital gown.

"Furuya-kun," he says, not bothering to hide the cheer he feels at seeing Furuya alive and somewhat well. He stands up and shuffles his chair over from the corner of room to next to Furuya's bed.

Furuya watches silently, still looking bemused and a little pale, but thankfully, not in pain.

"I… suppose you have questions?" Furuya tries once Shuichi is settled by Furuya's bed.

"Yes," Shuichi says shortly, some of his cheer dissipating as he recalls Furuya's 'death' with some irritation. He had _many_ questions. But for now - "How are you feeling?"

"...I've felt worse," answers Furuya slowly - too slowly.

"I'll call a doctor," Shuichi suggests, but Furuya just shakes his head.

"Not right now," Furuya says, and his voice is steady enough that Shuichi lets it go for now. Furuya cocks his head to the side. "Did you manage to capture Vermouth or Chianti?"

"Vermouth, no," Shuichi replies, shrugging - then he smiles coolly. "Chianti, yes. She's in FBI custody the last I heard this morning."

Furuya stares out the window, frowning. "What time is it?"

Taking out his phone and glancing at it, Shuichi answers, "About five."

He slept longer than he expected, considering he fell asleep in late morning. Shuichi supposes that in his defense, he had been staying up later the past couple days planning everything.

"I see," says Furuya, turning his gaze back towards Shuichi, "And the police?"

"I had to contact the FBI," answers Shuichi, "But we've been keeping things quiet from the PSB and the local police."

"That's fine," Furuya says dismissively, then with a surprising amount of genuinity to the voice - "Thank you, Akai."

"Why, though?"

Furuya glances down at the bed, his hands clenching the sheets. He lets out an angry breath and, as if someone were pulling the words out of his mouth one by one with a pair of tweezers, mutters, "We have a leak."

"A leak?" Shuichi repeats with no little surprise. Furuya had survived for a terribly long time in the Organization as an operative from a bureau with a leak.

"And fairly high up, too," Furuya says, nodding. "This is an internal affair though, Akai. It's not your department - I put Kazami and a few others I trust on it. We've been working at it."

"Considering the FBI are working with the PSB, it's _very_ relevant," Shuichi says coolly. Furuya should understand that perfectly well, no matter his embarrassment at his organization's incompetence. And - "Sergeant Kazami knows you're alive?"

"I got into contact with him shortly after my 'death'," explains Furuya, and Shuichi can't help a jolt of irritation at that on recalling just how strongly Kazami had tried to push Furuya's death. Furuya continues, "And… it's not _our_ leak, exactly, Akai."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"This place is secure, right?" Furuya asks, and Shuichi hesitates.

"It's been checked for bugs, and room is fairly soundproof - it's meant for use by the police," he says, and glances towards the door. He sees the shadow of brown-blonde hair through the clouded glass window and relaxes a little.

"Alright," Furuya says. He starts to shrug, but stops the motion with a grimace of pain. "It's a leak in the metropolitan police."

Shuichi's eyes widen, and Furuya smiles wryly.

"It's a fairly major leak too, but I have no evidence," Furuya explains, "Hence, the subterfuge."

"If you have no evidence, Furuya-kun, how did you find out?"

"I-" Furuya starts, averting his gaze. He pauses, then glances back with a frown. "When did you start calling me 'Furuya-kun', Akai?"

Shuichi raises an eyebrow, but nonetheless - "When did you start calling me 'Shuichi', Furuya-kun?"

A flush rises to Furuya's cheeks, and Shuichi can't help but stare at the novel sight.

(He never thought that he would ever think something like this, but it's actually a little cu-

\- he cuts off his thoughts before they can go any further.)

"When the hell have I ever called you 'Shuichi', Akai!?" Furuya hisses, tone coloured with embarrassment.

"Right before you fell unconscious last night," he replies.

Furuya scowls, the flush fading away to Shuichi's mild disappointment. "I can't remember much from near the end, but whatever it was, I'm sure I was calling you by your _full name,_ FBI."

"Alright, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says in a placating tone, then a little more coldly, "Don't think I didn't notice you changing the subject."

Furuya sighs. "I would've been more surprised if you didn't. I suppose you aren't going to let this go?"

"You spent months getting close to me," Shuichi says shortly, "Then made me think you were killed."

"So you think you're entitled to some explanation."

"I would _like_ some explanation," Shuichi corrects.

"But you're entitled to it too," Furuya says quietly. He meets Shuichi's eyes, looking a touch regretful. "I am sorry for using you in the way I did."

"Using me?" echoes Shuichi.

"I originally intended to convince _you_ to 'die' the way I did," Furuya explains, voice still and serious, "That's why I felt it was worth the time to try to get you to trust me. But things changed, and I realized that to make the moves I needed it would be easier to drop off the map, especially as I already had all the information I needed. So I let myself be seen meeting you because I felt that would be the easiest way to be 'revealed', even though I knew that might put you and your work at risk. I apologize for that."

Shuichi blinks once, twice, then carefully, without breaking eye contact - "So you're saying everything was just to manipulate me and the Organization?"

Furuya's eyes flicker to the side, and Shuichi smiles.

"Yes," Furuya responds.

"I don't believe that," Shuichi says immediately, and Furuya visibly chokes.

"What? I _just said-_ "

"-And I say that I don't believe that," Shuichi interrupts, his small smile not fading. Oh, he was sure at least _some_ of it was manipulation - this was Bourbon, after all. But everything that happened, the way Furuya acted during those visits - he finds it rather doubtful that it was all a lie. He continues, "Even if it was, though - I'm willing to start anew here."

"Y-you're willing to-" sputters Furuya, looking visibly unsettled, and Shuichi presses in on his advantage.

"-In my mind, we're friends, Furuya-kun," Shuichi offers.

"I- you-" Furuya seems lost for words. He buries his face in one his hands - the one not attached to his injured shoulder - and lets out a loud sigh. "You know what, I don't know why I'm surprised." He lets out a quiet laugh, a little nostalgic. "You never change, do you, Sh- Akai. Even if-"

Furuya cuts himself off before letting his hand drop back onto the bed. He looks back up at Akai. With a unexpectedly soft smile, he admits, "I already considered you a friend too, Akai."

It's a small surprise that Furuya admits it, but a welcome one.

"Then as a symbol of our new friendship, why don't you explain how you know what you know?" he asks, because Furuya is entirely correct - he isn't going to let this go, not this time.

"Now who's manipulating who," grumbles Furuya, but there's no bite to the words. "I… haven't told anyone about how. Didn't think anyone would believe me, but I suppose if anyone would, it would be you, Akai."

The words are intriguing. He didn't expect that Furuya had done something _unbelievable_ to get the information he had - he expected something on the wrong side of the law, perhaps some desperate maneuvers.

"Try me. I'll keep an open mind," he says.

"Alright," says Furuya, then smiles sweetly. "If you laugh, I'll punch you in the face as soon as my shoulder is better."

"...I'll keep that in mind."

Furuya nods shortly.

His face completely solemn, lit up softly by the fading orange sunlight coming in from the window, Furuya says - "Time travel."

...Shuichi wants to laugh.

* * *

Furuya claims that his consciousness was sent back in time from six years in the future.

He also claims he doesn't know why - one night, he went to sleep in his apartment, the next morning he woke up in Bourbon's apartment, one he hadn't used for over four years.

"At first I was sure it was some strange dream," Furuya admits, eyes distant, "Then, I was just desperate to get back, but I forced myself to let go of those hopes quickly. It was… selfish."

"Selfish?" Shuichi echoes.

"I have a good memory, Akai," explains Furuya, "I remember many, many cases, even those from seven years ago. I had the opportunity to save so many lives, even if I was too late to save any of my own friends." He laughs, the sound a little choked, "I was really bitter about that at first. Still am, really. I was forced back in time, lost everything I had built up, just to be months too late to save even a single one of my friends. The gods are cruel, I suppose."

Shuichi doesn't know what to say. He just knows that the pain in Furuya's voice sounds terribly genuine, and so - "I don't think it was selfish to still want to go back."

Furuya scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous. This was bigger than my personal woes. I needed to rank my priorities properly."

"And how did you rank them?" Shuichi asks.

"First comes the country and the people," Furuya says, holding up a finger in the air. He brings up another finger. "Then comes the PSB." Another finger. "Then friends and family." A fourth finger shoots up. "Then, and only then, comes yourself. You're supposed to rank yourself last, Akai. I'm a dog of my country, nothing more, even if I forgot that a little over these past few years."

"I can't say I agree with that," says Shuichi. He would protect innocents over himself, but he joined the FBI for his family. Perhaps it wasn't right, but there was little he wouldn't do for his family - and even his friends.

"I know you can't," Furuya says, smile quiet on his face. "But that doesn't change how I should feel about it, even if before I realized it, over the years, you ended up infecting me too much with your perspective."

Furuya explains how in the original timeline, he hadn't found out about the truth behind Scotch's death until much later. Explains how he had tried to kill Shuichi, numerous times, until he found out the truth and fell into despair, desperately clawing onto his hatred for Shuichi to keep himself afloat until he couldn't anymore.

"Originally, you were the one to fake your death to let Hondou-san - ah, I mean Kir - stay in the Organization," Furuya explains, "So I managed to stay in the Organization until the very, very end - but on that final strike against the Organization, I messed up and they found me out. I was stuck in an abandoned warehouse waiting for my death via time bomb, and well, I was willing to die."

"But you didn't."

"I didn't," says Furuya, nodding. He snorts. "You were actually the one to come blazing into that warehouse to save me, ignoring safety regulations that were there for a _reason_ , Akai. We weren't even that close then."

At first Shuichi wants to object that if that really had happened, if Furuya is telling the truth, it would be a different Akai Shuichi who had done that - that he doesn't deserve that irritated tone.

But then he considers that he would probably do the same for Furuya in that situation, and decides to keep his mouth shut.

They're interrupted halfway into his tale, the sun almost completely set at that point. A doctor comes in and yelps when she finds Furuya sitting up in bed. She chases Shuichi out of the room and he leans peevishly against the wall while the doctor does all her checkups.

Jodie was standing out there, like he had expected - he tells her about Okiya Subaru but keeps quiet about the time travel. He's not entirely sure yet if he believes it himself, after all.

He and Jodie end up grabbing a quick convenience store dinner. With some convincing that Furuya would be more comfortable with him alone and perhaps some shameless use of 'you do trust me, right?', Jodie agrees to let him go back inside the room alone to talk with Furuya some more.

As soon as he returns, Furuya continues his tale. Summarizes what had happened to Shuichi's father in a few succinct lines that make Shuichi _choke_ and his mind go a little blank. Talks about how Masumi and his mother had returned to Japan, talks about how Shuichi had eventually decided to remain in Japan to stay by his family after much wheedling from Masumi.

"You worked with your mother at first, but you got so sick of that so quickly you actually decided to join the police academy at age thirty-four," Furuya says, his voice surprisingly fond. "There was no way the PSB would ever let you join with your conflicts of interest, so you ended up joining the Tokyo Metropolitan department. You worked with Kudo-kun a lot - ah, he's a high school detective right now, I suppose you haven't really met him much in this timeline."

"I see…" Shuichi says slowly, disbelievingly. He's not entirely sure if he's up for parsing through this information dump, but the frightening thing was that the dump all seemed terribly _plausible._

He pushes his thoughts of his father aside for now, because that would require a great deal more time to process than he had right now.

"Do you believe me?" asks Furuya, and Shuichi blinks, because the voice is _vulnerable_ in a way Shuichi's never really heard before.

But despite his desire to say a little white lie, to say that he does believe Furuya, he doesn't entirely, not quite yet. It's all rather outlandish, and it's still _possible_ that Furuya made it all up.

"It certainly would explain a lot, but…" he trails off.

Furuya nods, looking disappointed but not unsurprised. "We were… fairly close friends, by the end. You told me a few things about your childhood, things you said you never told anyone else. Would hearing one of those stories help convince you?"

It would've taken quite a bit of effort for Furuya to go all the way to England to interrogate his childhood friends and classmates for stories. Combined with all of Furuya's other mysterious knowledge, it might be enough to push Shuichi over into tentative belief.

"Shoot."

"You told me that when you first went into elementary school, you had troubles pronouncing 'r'," Furuya says, "Your parents often spoke in Japanese in the house as a child, and it affected your accent. The schoolteacher for Reception was named Ms. Reed, and so some of the other children would gather around you and taunt you to say Ms. Reed's name, but no matter how much you repeated it, it-"

"-Okay, stop," Shuichi cuts in, holding up a hand for Furuya to stop. He coughs, forces down the heat he feels gathering in his face, and says, "I believe you, I believe you, just… stop. Just _how_ close were we?"

"Fairly close," Furuya says sweetly.

"Was I close with your wife as well?" asks Shuichi, perhaps a little cruelly. But it was something he wanted to know - whether Okiya Subaru's tale was as truthful as this one.

Furuya freezes and lets out an awkward laugh. "I'm sorry, my _wife?_ "

"You're still wearing your ring," Shuichi says, nodding at Furuya's left hand splayed out casually on the sheets.

Furuya covers his left hand with his right in a decidedly self-conscious move. He glances to the side. "I just forgot to take it off, Akai. Don't think too deeply about it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Furuya says, a scowl on his face. He looks up to meet Shuichi's gaze steadily. "I assure you that I've never been married to any woman. Okiya's story of his wife was a fabrication."

Shuichi frowns, because Furuya doesn't look away, his voice doesn't shake in the slightest, but Shuichi is _certain_ that the story wasn't false.

(He supposes Furuya is a talented liar, but still… he feels like he's missing something obvious.)

"Alright," he says. The conversation lulls into silence as Shuichi quietly muses over everything Furuya had said, hand on his chin.

It's some minutes until Furuya says abruptly, "Akai."

"Hm?" he says, hand falling off his chin.

Furuya smiles, as sugary sweet as a slice of strawberry shortcake stuffed to the brim with icing, and for the first time in a long while, Shuichi gets a strong urge to flee.

* * *

Shuichi stumbles out of the hospital room holding a looseleaf piece of paper. It's covered on both sides in Furuya's writing, a little messier than usual but legible nonetheless.

"What's that?" Jodie asks, peering at the paper in curiosity.

"A lot of it is just names," Shuichi says. He stares at the paper for a few moments longer, then folds it up and slips it into a coat pocket. "It's a list of people Furuya believes might commit murder in next several weeks, their probable victims, their motives, probable method of execution…"

Jodie whistles, looking impressed - and a touch shocked. "The PSB do things like that?"

"I don't think it's the PSB," Shuichi says, shaking his head and letting out a short, wry laugh. "I think it's just Furuya-kun."

"Why did he give you that information?"

"He wants me to do something about it while he's bedridden," Shuichi explains, then rubs at his forehead. "He wants me to convince them not to commit murder, or failing that, to catch them in the act."

"...He wants _you_ to do that?" asks Jodie, and the skepticism in her voice is a little offensive.

"What?"

"It's just, sometimes you're not the most sensitive of people, Shuu," Jodie hedges.

Shuichi gives her an unamused look - Jodie looks back unapologetically.

He sighs. "There's someone else I might ask for help. I'd ask you, Jodie, but I want you to stay here when you can."

"Argh, I hate guard duty," Jodie grumbles.

"Thanks, Jodie," Shuichi says sincerely.

Jodie rolls her eyes, but looks a little pleased.

"You should appreciate it, Shuu," Jodie says with a smile. A pensive look falls on her face. "Though I admit, I'm also a little curious about what kind of person this Inspector Furuya is… you monopolised him all for yourself all day. I'll definitely be talking with him tomorrow."

"Most of the day we were both asleep," Shuichi counters.

Jodie waves a hand dismissively. "Details."

Shuichi snorts, then raises a hand in farewell. He heads out of the hospital, and once he's a fair ways away in a fairly secluded location, he brings out his cellphone and calls someone he hasn't talked to in a little while.

After a few rings, she picks up.

"Hello?" comes the voice from the phone.

"Hello, Akemi."

* * *

There's a couple reasons why Shuichi contacted Akemi, despite understanding how dangerous it was to be seen together.

The first is that Akemi is the only person he knows with even mediocre disguising skills. She's never tried disguising anyone but herself before, but with a few hit and misses, she manages to doll Shuichi up to look different enough from his usual self that he's sure any Organization member aside from Gin or Vermouth would dismiss the similarity to Akai Shuichi as a coincidence.

The second is that Akemi has always been a terribly kind person, but the kindness didn't come from a place of naivety. She grew up in a bloodsoaked Organization, even if it was at the fringes. She understood death, understood murderers, and he didn't know anyone better to help convince people to not take that final step.

It's awkward working with each other at first. They misstep all the time, accidentally brush and jump apart immediately. Gradually they get used to it though - or at least Shuichi gets used to it - and he finds he likes this, working with Akemi.

It's not quite as smooth as things were back in the Organization, when they were dating and truly loved each other, even with all his secrets.

But it's easier, and more honest, and in the end Shuichi finds he prefers it now, even with the occasional awkwardness. He's not sure if they can call each other friends just yet - it's hard, after a break-up, and he's surprised every day that he's become such good friends with Jodie.

He thinks that they might be heading there one day soon though, and actually finds he's looking forwards to it.

* * *

Shuichi doesn't go back to visit Furuya until he's crossed off all the names on the list, which is around three weeks later. Furuya's almost about to leave the hospital at that point - he would've left sooner, but the bullet that Vermouth shot into his leg had actually fractured the bone pretty deeply. It's apparently healing pretty neatly, but he'll still need crutches when he leaves.

He can't help but feel a little satisfied when he tells him about what he had done and Furuya stares up at him in undisguised shock.

(Furuya's still wearing the wedding ring. Shuichi can't imagine he forgot to take it off for three weeks straight.)

"I honestly didn't expect you to do _this_ well," Furuya admits with a laugh from the hospital bed. Then his eyes narrow. "Who did you get to help you?"

"Akemi," Shuichi says easily, "She did a lot of the work."

"Huh," Furuya says, expression unreadable. "You know, I was meaning to ask you this for a while, but… were you telling the truth, when you told me as Okiya Subaru that you broke up with her?"

"I was telling the truth," Shuichi says, and finds that after two weeks of working with Akemi and moving past things, the next words come more smoothly out of his throat - "I don't love her romantically anymore."

"Honestly, I didn't expect that," mumbles Furuya, and the look to his eyes is a little lost, a little confused. "You always seemed to love each other so much…"

"Did we get together in the original timeline?" Shuichi asks, curious, because Furuya hadn't mentioned Akemi once in his description of the future.

"Oh, uh." Furuya glances to the side. "No, at least -" he coughs, "Ah, no."

And Shuichi can't help but frown at that, because if that was the case, why did Furuya always seem so convinced that him and Akemi were meant for each othe-

Shuichi's eyes land on the wedding ring still on Furuya's finger, and in a flash, he realizes why Furuya acted the way he did.

A sick feeling settles itself in Shuichi's stomach, his throat drying up.

It was so obvious. He has no idea how he could've missed it before. The subtle jealousy - because that's what it had been, of course that's what it had been - the constant questions about her, asking about their relationship and looking displeased whenever Shuichi said it was going well...

Furuya's wife had been Akemi.

And the man she hadn't been able to forget, the man who she had left Furuya for...

The only person it could've been was Shuichi himself.

* * *

It made sense.

If in the original timeline Furuya still had a grudge against Shuichi, then when he saved Akemi - because of his connection to her mother - he would've never let Shuichi get into contact with her.

Shuichi did notice that during his tale, Furuya had carefully avoided mentioning anything about what originally happened to Akemi. Considering that Furuya was actively pretending that he hadn't been involved with anyone in the future, it's logical that he would avoid mention of her.

(He should've pushed on the subject, demanded to know what really had happened to Akemi in the original timeline. But Furuya had been pale on the hospital bed and Shuichi got the gut feeling that whatever had happened with Akemi, it was something he wouldn't like to hear.

So he kept quiet.)

Of course Akemi would fall for Furuya. He was always a looker, but even putting that aside, he was intelligent, always so determined, and even when he got annoyed it was amus-

(-Shuichi has to pause for a moment at that, because when had Furuya getting annoyed at him become _amusing_ rather than _irritating?_

But he finds it's true, that imagining Furuya snapping at him like a cat who just got its tail stepped on just makes him think that Furuya really is rather adorab-

Shuichi somehow manages to choke on his own thoughts and quickly smothers them.)

And it wouldn't be surprising if Furuya fell for Akemi right back - Akemi, who was always so understanding, so kind, who might've even accepted Furuya as he was, grudges and the blood on his hands and everything.

He doesn't know why he wasn't in the picture. Perhaps he went back to America for a time, and Akemi wasn't interested in a long distance relationship. Perhaps it was him faking his death like Furuya said he did.

Regardless, clearly Akemi thought that she didn't have a chance with Shuichi, and so she married Furuya despite still loving Shuichi. Only then his other self must've returned to the picture - maybe returning from America, maybe returning to life, he didn't know.

And Furuya was left with a broken heart and a "fairly close" friend who stole away his _wife_ , and Shuichi wants to punch his other self in the face. Maybe a few times, for good measure.

What could he have been thinking!?

How could he have ever done that to anyone, let alone Furuya?

(But he does know, just a little, why something that seems so utterly unthinkable to him might've been possible for his future self.

He lets the quiet thoughts he's been smothering for quite some time now come to the forefront of his mind.)

He pushes a hand over his eyes and lets out a deep, strained sigh.

It could've been possible because while he just might be starting to fall for Furuya - clearly, his other self never had.

* * *

The right thing to do would be to reintroduce Furuya to Akemi.

Unfortunately, he's not quite as selfless as Furuya claims to be himself. Oh, certainly, he can rank himself before innocents, before friends, before family - when he needs to.

That being said, he's not open-hearted enough to happily watch as the person he may or may not be falling for gets together with someone else. He's amazed that Furuya could.

(But he supposes that Furuya had experience with it already.)

So what he does is nothing.

He doesn't mention Akemi to Furuya and doesn't mention Furuya to Akemi. He keeps on working against the Organization, keeps on working with Furuya and even Akemi at times and admittedly goes out of his way to avoid them meeting.

Perhaps it's petty. He finds he doesn't care.

Furuya doesn't stop wearing the ring.

Shuichi finds it vaguely irritating.

(Shuichi finds it incredibly irritating.)

* * *

He's still somewhat annoyed at Kazami for being part of the subterfuge behind Furuya's death, but he can admit that he does good work. It's Kazami and a few trusted members of his team that plug up the Metropolitan Police leak in the end (though granted, with the help of some information Furuya provides), while Furuya is busy with his machinations and Shuichi is following up on leads with the FBI.

And so Furuya Rei returns to life with little fanfare and a quiet welcome back from the PSB. He hears secondhand that Furuya had been subjected to quite the dressing-down from his superiors, but was reluctantly let off with only a drop in pay after handing them a laptop _filled_ with Organization information.

(It's somewhat amusing that his superiors don't even question how Furuya got the information. Furuya is an excellent investigator, but not excellent enough to manage something as amazing as that.

But Shuichi supposes it's convenient for the both of them that his superiors think Furuya is larger than life.)

Furuya refuses to talk about what happened exactly, sadly, but Shuichi can't imagine the stories are too far from the truth.

While unfortunately Furuya doesn't remember every single little detail discovered about the Organization after its fall, what he does know is more than enough. It's a consolidated mass of information that the PSB, FBI, even MI6 apparently, had spent years putting together that Furuya has in the here and now.

It's more than enough to chip away at the Organization now that Furuya doesn't need to worry about the police leak, and chip away they do.

* * *

Furuya finally stops wearing the ring when he returns to work as a PSB agent, and Shuichi is a little ashamed at the excitement he feels when he spots the bare finger.

Then a few days later, he spots the thin silver chain around Furuya's neck and the outline of a ring under his shirt, and his stomach drops.

(He feels like Akemi's contact information on his phone is burning a hole in his pocket.)

* * *

Traditionally, Shuichi has enjoyed working with Furuya about half the time.

Back in the Organization, half the time they spent working together was spent with Bourbon making snide comments at best and going off at him for minutes at worst. He always felt a little sorry for Scotch for having to deal with them both, because admittedly, he never did much to soothe Bourbon's anger.

(Sometimes, when he was in a particularly bad mood, he might've even added fuel to the fire.)

Granted, sometimes those snide comments and fights were warranted and in the end, actually improved the plan. Other times, Shuichi felt like Bourbon was picking a fight for the sake of a fight.

(He might've been, actually. They all had personas to keep up in the Organization, and none of them wanted Organization plans to succeed, not really.)

The other half of the time they spent working together, the half Shuichi actually always enjoyed, was when they actually executed the plans they spent so long arguing about. Because even if the final decision was something Bourbon _hated,_ he never let it show while completing the mission. No, he followed the plan unless circumstances required that he didn't, and even when that happened Shuichi was always easily able to follow his logic and back him up.

Now that they're working together again, it's easy, too easy, to step back into Rye and it doesn't seem like the years - all of them - have mellowed Furuya out any.

They give both of their subordinates a bit of a fright in their first joint meeting, first thing in the morning.

" _Huh!?_ " Furuya snaps, tapping a pen against the table in front of them. There's a map of Tokyo spread out there, little Xes marked on the paper at major Organization illegal outposts. Warehouses, black market dealers - a wide variety.

"I said," Shuichi says irritatedly from his spot next to Furuya, "Going for the gun dealer in District 4 first makes no sense, even though she's codenamed. Once she goes under, the warehouse in the same district is sure to go underground - they buy from her."

"I'm not saying that we go for the gun dealer first, I'm saying we go for them both at the same time," counters Furuya. He sneers, his expression mocking, "Are your ears stuffed with cotton?"

Shuichi snorts derisively. "Is your _mind_ stuffed with cotton, Bourbon? We can't do that."

"And why not?"

"Because," Shuichi snatches the pen from Furuya's hand - he sputters, but Shuichi ignores it - and circles a spot on the map a few times. "The drug dealer that spends time around here is connected with the warehouse in District 4."

"What-" Furuya glares down at the map. "How the hell are they connected?"

"He's dating a stocker at the warehouse," Shuichi says, "Didn't you read the supplementary documents from the FBI?"

"Well-" Furuya snatches back his pen from Shuichi and scowls. "Shut up, FBI!"

"Um… Furuya-san, Akai-san…"

At the cautious voice, both Shuichi and Furuya freeze. They look up from the map and around the table at the group of PSB and FBI agents who stare at them with expressions that range from incredulity to even fright.

Though Jodie just has a thin eyebrow raised - she looks more amused than anything else.

Furuya coughs once, the sound self-conscious. "My apologies. Shall we continue the discussion a little more calmly?"

And while things went smoothly for the rest of the discussion, Shuichi felt remarkably like something was missing.

(Furuya glaring at him with blazing eyes was quite the beautiful sight.)

* * *

Furuya approaches him that evening soon before Shuichi plans to leave the offices - he's sitting in some nook, flipping through a few documents in the hope that something of use pops out to him.

There's a picture-perfect smile on Furuya's face as he walks up to him.

Shuichi doesn't like it much at all.

"I really do apologize for this afternoon," Furuya says, and Shuichi swears he can see him _sparkling._ "I should've been more diplomatic."

"Furuya-kun," Shuichi says shortly, then raises an eyebrow. "I'm sure you can tell the blame's fifty-fifty - I was riling you up as well. What's this about?"

The smile falters for a moment before returning in full force. "I think it's normal to want to maintain cordial relations with work colleagues."

"Maintain cordi-" Shuichi starts to repeat incredulously, before just shaking his head. He frowns up at Furuya, and says, frustration bleeding into his voice - "We're _friends_ , Furuya-kun."

They had been working together fine in the past couple months, before Furuya finally managed to come back to the PSB. Arguments like the one that morning were common between them - admittedly never in front of an audience before, but regardless.

He likes Furuya - more than he should - but Furuya's strange bouts really annoyed him sometimes.

(If Furuya was going to be in love with his ghosts of the future, there was nothing he could do about that.

But at the very least he wanted to know that he meant _something_ good to Furuya.)

"Well, yes, but…" Furuya hems, glancing to the side.

"But what," says Shuichi flatly. He sighs, long-suffering, and thinks. The reason for this odd behaviour was most likely…

Shuichi stands up from his seat, Furuya taking a step back in surprise.

"What?" Furuya says defensively.

Then Shuichi smiles, and holds up the documents in his hand. "These documents are for the follow-up meeting tomorrow."

"Alright?"

"You can come over to my hotel room to discuss it tonight," he says, "Then we'll be on the same page for the meeting tomorrow."

Furuya blinks, looking taken aback. "Well, that's…"

"Your subordinates won't see the ugly side of you then, right?"

"That isn't the is-" Furuya bites his lip and Shuichi wants to groan because what _was_ the issue, then? But then Furuya shakes his head back and forth and looks at Shuichi, small smile on his face.

It's uncertain, but it's soft and Shuichi drinks it in.

"I'm sorry," Furuya says, "That's a good idea, Akai. I'd be happy to come over."

Shuichi hesitates a little, wondering whether he should push further about the strange behaviour.

Then Furuya cheerily suggests, "Shall we go out for dinner first?" and Shuichi decides it can wait.

* * *

The system works well.

They meet up before meetings whenever they can, and most of the time they can come to a consensus by the end of the night. When they do, they show a unified front that makes colleagues on either side _stare_.

...When they don't, the fight continues during the meeting proper. Though Furuya usually manages to be a bit less actively aggressive and a bit more passively aggressive.

It's not uncommon for one of them to crash at the other's place for the night if their pre-meeting meetings last for too long, and before he knows it he's lugging around two of Furuya's spare suits between hotels.

"Your suits all look the exact same," Shuichi notes when Furuya brings over a spare suit for the first time. Furuya's draping it over the hotel couch, making sure no wrinkles form in the fabric.

Furuya clicks his tongue and scowls. "Don't want to hear that from someone whose closet consists _solely_ of black collared shirts."

"It was just an observation, Furuya-kun," says Shuichi drily, "I thought it was unusual for someone like you."

"I stay in line at work, Akai," Furuya tells him, then a little regretfully - "I never particularly liked the outfits Vermouth dolled me up in either, but shaking the boat is dangerous."

Shuichi appraises the quiet look on Furuya's face and finds himself saying, "When everything is over, I might want to see how you pick out your outfits."

Furuya freezes for a moment before laughing dismissively. "You _hate_ shopping, Akai."

"I feel like it might be interesting if it's with you."

"...Don't say stupid things," mutters Furuya, then changes the subject back towards planning their next operation.

* * *

It's not long until Shuichi realizes he enjoys their private meetings much more than strictly appropriate.

He likes being able to bounce ideas off of each other, likes being able to work together the best they can to make things perfect. He likes being able to let out his frustrations at Furuya, likes especially when Furuya throws a punch and they both end up on the floor, because while that might not be the most productive, it's certainly relieving.

(He likes it when Furuya comes out of the shower, hair wet and towel wrapped around his waist, and god he's terrible but seeing Furuya half-naked is very satisfying. Very.)

He likes it when they get to a dead end and Furuya throws up his hands, groans, and declares snappishly that they're watching a movie. Or sometimes, if they're in Furuya's apartment, that he's making something to eat and Shuichi's been indentured as his servant in the kitchen because "Akai, you could cook in the future, I _know_ you have the capability."

He likes it when they sit next to each other on a couch, not as close as Shuichi might like but close enough. Close enough he can softly hear Furuya breathing, softly hear that Furuya is there and alive next to him.

But the thing he likes most that Furuya clearly likes it too.

(The thing he likes most is that he can almost forget about the ring still strung around Furuya's neck.)

* * *

Shuichi's minding his own business, having a quick lunch in a fast food place near headquarters, when Jodie slides in the booth seat across from him.

He most definitely does _not_ like the look on her face.

And so his eyes narrow.

"Hey Shuu!" she says cheerfully, ignoring the look on his face. "How have things been?"

"...We just talked this morning, Jodie," Shuichi says.

"But I feel like you're not telling me important developments in your life," Jodie complains - then smiles. "Like how Furuya was wearing a black shirt today." She raises an eyebrow. "Your shirt, Shuu."

"He was wearing my shirt, yes," Shuichi agrees, and the uncaring tone to his voice is completely unfabricated.

Because as much as he might want differently, genuinely nothing had happened between them last night.

Furuya had spilled something on the shirt he had been wearing and both of Furuya's spare shirts that Shuichi kept with him were in the wash. Without any other choice, Furuya had to wear one of Shuichi's shirts to work.

(If he got a bit of a high seeing Furuya wearing his clothes, well, no one needed to know.)

"...And _why_ was he wearing your shirt?" asks Jodie after a few beats.

"Because he needed a spare shirt." Shuichi brings his soft drink closer to his mouth and takes a few sips from it through the straw, watching in mild amusement as Jodie's face transitions from incredulity to annoyance to sheer exasperation.

" _Shuu._ "

"Jodie."

Jodie lets out an irritated sigh and aims a similarly irritated glare at Shuichi. "I guess I just can ask _Rei_ about it then."

The soda cup in his hand crumples, some of the pop inside spilling out on his hand. Jodie's irritated look disappears as she bursts out into laughter.

"You should really" - she chuckles again - "tone down that jealousy, Shuu. I see that part of you hasn't changed since we were dating."

As Shuichi grabs a napkin to wipe up his hand, it's his turn to sigh. "We're not involved in that way, Jodie."

"Really?" Jodie asks, sounding skeptical.

"Sometimes he stays over for the night - on the sofa - after we discuss work," Shuichi reluctantly explains. He discards his napkin on his tray and leans back against his seat. "That's all."

Jodie eyes him carefully for some moments - Shuichi meets the gaze steadily. Finally, she breaks the gaze, looking appeased - but a little sad.

"You know, I talked a lot with Furuya those few weeks he was in the hospital," she says, "He put on a prideful front a lot, but I honestly got the feeling he still liked you."

Shuichi slides out of his seat and stands up, grabbing the tray. Jodie looks up at him, the expression on her face still sad - still _pitying_ , almost, and it pisses him off a little.

"'Like' isn't the problem," he tells her.

* * *

"You need a proper apartment," complains Furuya one morning as he's changing. He's tightening the tie around his neck as he aims an irritated glare at Shuichi sitting on the bed. Shuichi has already changed into his much more casual attire.

"Oh?"

"A 1LDK," Furuya decides, letting go of his tie. He grabs his suit jacket and slips it on as he talks. "Or a 1DK at least. Something with a damn kitchen. I want to make breakfast in the mornings."

"Sorry, one el dee what?" Shuichi asks, raising an eyebrow.

"A 1LDK," repeats Furuya, giving Shuichi a scathing look. "One bedroom and a living, dining, kitchen area. A 1DK doesn't have the living part. How many years have you lived in Japan?"

"Never needed to go apartment hunting before." Shuichi shrugs. "If I wasn't living in hotels, the Organization dealt with housing for us, remember?"

Furuya closes his eyes and lets out a loud sigh before saying, tone exasperated, "I'll help you look for housing."

"I'm an adult man, Furuya-kun, I can google these things myself if I need to," says Shuichi drily. He raises an eyebrow towards Furuya. "Though I'm surprised you care so much."

"What do you have against breakfast?" counters Furuya, crossing his arms.

"Nothing," is Shuichi's simple reply.

"Then you should have nothing to be surprised about," Furuya says, sticking his nose into the air. An exaggerated 'hmph' escapes his mouth. "I'll send you some sites you can look at."

(Shuichi finds his lips quirking up fondly at Furuya's haughty act. He can't seem to stop himself and-

That scares him.)

"You plan to spend that much time with me?"

"I sleep over once a week already, don't I?" Furuya points out reasonably, and Shuichi shrugs, because it's true.

Then suddenly, Furuya's eyes zero in on something on the bedside table and he freezes for some reason. He laughs awkwardly. "Don't worry, I'll stop staying over if I'm in the way."

Shuichi glances at the bedside table but there's nothing of interest there - just a lamp, a glass of water, his phone blinking with a new message -

\- It's a new message from Akemi, and as sad as it is Shuichi feels like he's choking on the jealousy.

 _You could never be in the way,_ Shuichi wants to say. _If I made a lover again I'd only want it to be you._

He swallows down the words. "Work is more important."

Furuya blinks in slight surprise, then smiles. "Something we can agree on, FBI."

(Shuichi wishes he could see any hint of disappointment in that smile.

But all he can see is sincerity and relief.)

* * *

True to his word, Furuya sends Shuichi some links to popular housing listing websites the next day. All the apartments that Furuya recommend are one bedroom.

Shuichi clicks on the menu bar on one of the sites Furuya sent and goes straight to the 2LDKs.

* * *

Sometimes Shuichi can't sleep at night.

The ones with the dead he can deal with. The dreams he had of Akemi before he learnt she was alive, those were fine - because no matter how much the Akemi of his dreams berated him, it just encouraged him, pushed him on, made him all the more determined to get revenge on Gin and protect her sister.

Being stuck somewhere, trapped somewhere, forced to watch as the first person he ever killed comes up to him with a gun to shoot him in the eyes like he had done to him - that was fine too. He's killed many more since then. It was fine.

Scotch-

He's never dreamt of Scotch.

(He supposes the guilt's present enough for him in the waking world that his subconscious mind doesn't feel the need to push it any further.

Or his subconscious mind just doesn't feel like he deserves to see Scotch again.

His conscious mind certainly doesn't.)

It's the dreams with the living that hit the hardest, though. The ones where his family and friends die in front of him, murdered by the Organization, while he's helpless to do a thing. He wakes up sometimes in a cold sweat and with a gnawing urge to go do _something_ , anything.

(The ones where his hair is long again, there's a gun in his hand pressed to a chest, only this time it's a man with blond hair who stares up at him with a soft smile.

Right until the moment a bullet shoots through that chest and blood splatters against the wall.

Those nights he wakes up, eyes blown wide in horror, and just feels frozen in place for hours.)

He's heard that sleeping by someone's side is supposed to help with that. To have 'comfort'. It never helped much when he slept by Akemi - he just felt terrible when he woke up in the middle of the night and accidentally woke her up too, no matter how understanding she was about it.

But he will say it was nice being able to see her alive next to him.

And that it's nice right now, to be able to turn around and see Furuya sleeping on the couch nearby, chest rising steadily up and down.

(The nights when he can't see Furuya there are worse than they were before.)

* * *

As time passes and there's fewer meetings and more action, they meet less and less. Furuya's running himself ragged finding information to deal with butterfly effects, while Shuichi's just as busy threatening people through the scope of his rifle.

But Shuichi's paperwork for his new apartment finally goes through and he manages to snatch away Furuya for a night to drag him there.

"I have work," he complains.

"Resting is part of work," Shuichi counters, and Furuya scowls but doesn't argue further.

Shuichi certainly doesn't see any more hesitation on Furuya's part when Furuya steps into his apartment and immediately starts criticizing it. He snarks at the lack of an oven, judges the colour of the walls - Shuichi was a big fan of the pale blue, but what did he know - and flushes the toilet a couple times to deem it barely passable.

There's an almost gleeful light in Furuya's eyes as he talks and a satisfied smile wide on his face, a look Shuichi hasn't seen at all in the past couple weeks. And so if Shuichi were completely honest, he would admit that the caustic words go through one ear and out the other.

Then Furuya reaches the second bedroom and his mouth slams shut.

"There's two bedrooms," he says dumbly, and the dumbfounded expression on Furuya's face makes Shuichi want to laugh.

So he does, a loud, cheerful one, and Furuya flips around to stare at him, dumbfounded expression still pasted on his face.

"I thought a bed was better than a couch," Shuichi says drily. Besides, he certainly gets paid enough to shell out extra yen each month for a two-bedroom apartment instead of a one-bedroom.

Furuya continues staring at him for a few beats too long before he finally coughs and composes himself, expression now decidedly neutral.

"Well, I certainly won't argue against you funneling more money into the Japanese economy," he says primly, and Shuichi can't help a fond smile.

If Furuya starts coming over just to discuss things that could just as easily be discussed over text, neither of them mention it.

* * *

At this point, the PSB and the FBI have taken down quite a few of the lower-ranked codenamed operatives, and to say that the higher-ups are overjoyed would be an understatement.

But the big fish are still at large - Vermouth and Gin, Rum and the boss, among a few others - and with their capture of so many operatives, they've gone completely to ground. Even Furuya is at a loss for where they might be.

Well. At a loss for where _most_ of them might be.

"They might not show their faces for years," mutters Furuya during a meeting, and Jodie slams her hands on the meeting table from across of him, her face set and angry.

"I'm not letting Vermouth get away," she snaps.

Furuya looks towards her and says, coolly, calmly, "You aren't going to like what I'm about to suggest, then."

Jodie's expression gets stormier and stormier the more Furuya speaks.

* * *

"Can't you talk some sense into him?" Jodie asks in frustration after the meeting, as they walk through the hallways. She throws her hands up into the air.

"Sense?" he echoes, hands in his pockets.

"Even putting aside that he wants to cooperate with _Vermouth_ ," Jodie starts, almost spitting out the name. She continues, frowning. "His plan puts him at a lot of risk. She nearly killed him once already. Furuya isn't a bad guy, I'd rather not see him dead."

"She's almost killed him more than once," Shuichi says absentmindedly, dredging up some old memories from when he was in the Organization.

He's about to talk about one of those many times Vermouth tried to kill Bourbon, but he clamps his mouth shut at Jodie's incredulous stare.

"All the more reason to stop him," she points out, but Shuichi shakes his head.

"The risk doesn't matter," he tells her, and Jodie raises an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm fascinated to hear your reasoning for _that_."

"All that matters is what we have to gain in comparison to the level of risk," Shuichi explains, lightly shrugging. "And leads on Rum, Gin, or the boss are worth the risk."

Jodie just frowns at him. They walk in silence for some time before Jodie finally speaks up again.

"That's like you to say, Shuu," she says, pauses for a moment, then - "But would you be so calm if Furuya actually died?"

And Shuichi just scowls a little, because both Jodie and himself know the answer to that question.

* * *

The night before the operation, Furuya comes to Shuichi's apartment. He doesn't give any explanations or excuses, not that he would need any. He just walks straight in as soon as Shuichi opens the door - neutral expression on his face - then flops face-first on the living area's single couch with a loud sigh.

Shuichi follows him there.

"Furuya-kun-" he starts, but he's cut off by Furuya lifting a hand high into the air.

"I'm fine," he says, voice muffled from being shoved into a couch cushion. The hand drops back down to the couch and makes a loud noise when it claps against the cushions.

"Right," says Shuichi skeptically.

Furuya sighs again before rolling over onto his back. He throws an arm against his eyes, shielding them from view. "This is a terrible idea."

"You're going to need to be more specific," Shuichi tells him. Furuya scowls.

"This." Furuya waves his free hand aimlessly. "That. I don't know. Everything."

"Not the best mindset considering tomorrow," Shuichi deadpans, looking down at Furuya with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe I'm saying this because of tomorrow," mutters Furuya. He rolls to the side, and even more quietly - "You know, Akai."

"Hm?"

Furuya is silent for a long while. Shuichi watches quietly as Furuya bites his lip, lets out a small breath.

Finally, he says, softly, "I don't want to-" Furuya bites his lip again and shakes his head. He sighs and rolls back forwards, his arm falling from his eyes.

The look to his eyes is a little lost, and Shuichi finds himself crouching down to be closer to those eyes, to meet him on the same level. He's desperate to touch him, to run a hand through that soft hair, but he holds himself back.

"Furuya-kun, I'll listen," he tells him instead, and those blue eyes of his flutter shut for a moment.

"I don't want to die anymore just for the sake of Japan."

His eyes widen, but before he can think of anything, something to say to that, a wry smile lands on Furuya's face.

"When I was originally twenty-nine, I'd do it in a heartbeat," he says, eyes opening to gaze at something far away. He chuckles. "I used to say that Japan was my lover, you know that?"

"You _what?_ " asks Shuichi, half-choking.

"Just wanted to show how important my work was to me," Furuya explains. His eyes flicker to the side. "But I can't do that anymore. I tried. I really did. But" - he lets out a frustrated hiss - "I _can't._ "

"I'm glad you have a survival instinct," says Shuichi, and the statement's completely genuine.

Furuya chuckles again. "I always had that, Akai. I just was willing to do away with it if I thought I needed to. But I can't anymore, because I feel like" - he hesitates before meeting Shuichi's eyes, a touch of vulnerability to his face - "I feel like the things I lost aren't too far out of reach, even though logically I know that can't be."

"Furuya-kun-"

"-I don't want to be killed by Vermouth tomorrow," blurts out Furuya before laughing, passing it off as a joke he didn't really mean.

He meant it. It was terribly obvious from the edge to the laughter and the strangeness to the smile, strangeness he couldn't express in words but he knew was there, somehow.

So it's partly that, and partly the reminder that Furuya might die, the reminder that they're _both_ in a dangerous line of work, that makes Shuichi let himself reach out for Furuya.

He tangles his hand into Furuya's hair, and ah, it's as soft as it looks. The sound of Furuya's breath hitching the moment Shuichi touches Furuya's head makes his eyes widen and tentative hope rise within him.

Then he starts rubbing soothing patterns into Furuya's head and red starts to rise to Furuya's cheeks. It's a soft red, hard to make out on Furuya's darker skin, but it's there and evident and _Shuichi is causing it._

Still, he has some self-control.

Until Furuya meets his eyes, mouth a little open, expression drenched with desire and _want_ , and Shuichi discovers he doesn't care anymore.

He leans in that last little distance to slip his tongue into that mouth, and immediately there's a tongue aggressively sliding against his own and a hand pressing against his own head, forcing him closer.

Shuichi knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows he shouldn't be doing this as he lets Furuya tug on his arm, pulling him onto a sofa that's much too small for two adult men.

The couch's armrest is uncomfortable against the back of his head and so Shuichi tries to break them apart for air. Only Furuya immediately comes back down, tongue pressing against Shuichi's shut lips again until Shuichi gives in and lets his mouth fall back open.

They need to talk. The ring strung around Furuya's neck presses against his chest, the way Furuya is shoving himself against him is much too desperate, and they need to talk.

Then Furuya slips a hand underneath Shuichi's shirt, flitting down his chest, his stomach, lower, and all thoughts of talking fly from his mind.

* * *

Furuya leaves early in the morning. It's four or five AM, judging from the light outside, and Shuichi pretends to be asleep like a coward when Furuya rolls out of bed and walks out the door.

They both have jobs to do today.

It's not the time to talk.

* * *

He has Vermouth in his scope, and he'd like nothing more than to shoot. He might be on his stomach on a rooftop a quarter-mile away while Vermouth stands in a hotel lobby, people walking by every second, but he's made more difficult shots before.

But Furuya is making contact, and that's more important than his desire to see Vermouth dead.

Furuya isn't carrying a listening device. Too dangerous, he claimed, not worth the risk. Still, as he watches Vermouth and Fuuya talk to each other, neither of their expressions betraying anything, he wishes he knew what they were saying. They're too far away for Shuichi to read their lips, if he even had that skill.

It's only a couple minutes after Furuya approaches Vermouth that they head to the elevators, and then he's lost visual.

Shuichi can do nothing but wait, teeth clenched together a little tighter than necessary.

* * *

It takes two hours for Furuya to walk back out of the elevators, looking no worse for wear - physically.

But even from this distance, Shuichi can make out that Furuya's fists are clenched too tightly.

* * *

Furuya doesn't go into the details during the debriefing.

"Vermouth wanted information about a scientist," he says shortly. "She had the tools to get the information, she just couldn't put it together. I put it together, and in exchange," - he carefully places a USB key, black, nondescript, on the round meeting room table - "she gave me this."

He looks around the table, expression serious. "I've already verified the information to the best of my ability. If we play this right" - his eyes narrow - "We can take down Rum."

And the room explodes into excited chatter.

Shuichi remains silent at his seat.

* * *

The information Furuya extracted from Vermouth is time sensitive, and Shuichi is well aware that they can't afford to be distracted if they want Rum to fall. There's more important things at stake than personal issues.

So he pushes back his worries about what exactly happened with Furuya and Vermouth, and pushes back the thoughts of what happened the night before that meeting.

(Furuya had said he didn't want to die.

That didn't mean he _wouldn't,_ if he thought there was no other option.

Shuichi tries not to lose contact with Furuya for too long.)

But in the end, neither Furuya nor himself play a major part in the operation to arrest Rum. Both of their faces are known by the Organization. The operation that was decided on required subterfuge and couldn't use a sniper.

He understands the logic.

But it's frustrating listening in on reports from field agents in the operations room miles away, helpless if anything happened.

A PSB agent ends up shot and in critical condition, but Rum is captured, along with one of his direct subordinates.

As others celebrate after the debriefing, Shuichi sees Furuya standing from his seat rather stiffly, expression unreadable, and so it's with a frown that Shuichi walks on over.

"Do you want-" he starts.

"-Yes," Furuya cuts in. There's a flash of something desperate in his eyes as he reaches out to grip Shuichi's arm, too tightly.

Shuichi frowns. "I didn't-"

"I don't care," interrupts Furuya again. He tugs at Shuichi's arm. "Let's go."

From the look on Furuya's face, he gets the impression that Furuya isn't thinking too hard about _where_. He just wants to go, and that's what Shuichi had planned on anyways.

"...Okay, Furuya-kun."

* * *

Shuichi takes Furuya back to his apartment, because it's private and even starting to get a little comfortable. Furuya doesn't object.

The moment the door shuts behind him, he's forced against a wall, Furuya's face pressing into his shoulder as his arms wrap around Shuichi. An undignified sputter escapes his lips.

(He can't feel Furuya's ring pressing against his chest, and his eyes widen.)

Shuichi's arms hover in mid-air at first - he's not quite sure where he's supposed to be putting them. But after some moments, he tentatively wraps his arms around Furuya in turn.

They stay in that position for a minute or two that seem to stretch out forever, Shuichi just quietly feeling Furuya breathe in and out, in and out. He can't quite bring himself to be the one to break the silence, not when he expects that Furuya will soon enough.

His expectations are met.

"I apologize," Furuya finally mumbles, formal, stilted. He lets go of Shuichi, tries to step back.

Shuichi tightens his grip, pressing Furuya closer - Furuya lets out a yelp of surprise, and Shuichi holds back a laugh.

"For what?" he asks.

"For…" Furuya trails off, sighs, and slumps back into Shuichi's embrace. His arms come back up to wrap around Shuichi again, and Shuichi smiles. Furuya continues quietly, "I promised myself I wouldn't do this again."

"This?" Shuichi echoes.

Furuya is quiet for a beat. Then, finally, Furuya blurts out - "I promised myself I wouldn't let myself be second place again. But" - he laughs bitterly - "I don't care anymore. I don't care if you still love Miyano-san, Akai. I don't care if you two are meant to be, if you're perfect together, if you're going to moon over her the rest of your life. I don't give a damn."

His hands tighten on Shuichi's back, and he continues, voice quiet and half-broken, "Just let me pretend that you love me."

Shuichi freezes, his grip around Furuya slackening as his mind works in overdrive to parse what Furuya just said.

Furuya begins to declare something snootily, but whatever he's saying doesn't register. It sounds like babbling to Shuichi anyways, a desperate attempt by Furuya to try to save face after pouring out too much of his true thoughts.

He shoves back Furuya so he can see his face. He's a little more rough than he intends - Furuya cuts himself off, a touch of nervousness to his eyes, as he's pushed back.

"I-" Shuichi starts. "I thought you loved Akemi."

Furuya visibly chokes. " _What!?_ "

"You- weren't you married to her?" demands Shuichi. He feels so confused.

"How the hell did you come to _that_ conclusion?" Furuya snaps. He rolls his eyes, looking exasperated. "That would've been impossible anyways, idiot FB-"

Furuya's mouth slams shut and Shuichi's eyes narrow.

"Why impossible?" he says sharply.

Furuya purses his lips and glances to his side.

"Furuya-kun."

His gaze darts back forward, and reluctantly, Furuya mutters, "Miyano-san died in the original timeline. I wasn't there to save her, and Gin killed her."

"...I see," Shuichi says levelly.

(Even as he feels his insides turn to ice. If it happened once, could it happen again-)

"-This is why I didn't want to tell you," snaps Furuya, eyes flashing, and it's enough to jolt Shuichi out of his thoughts. "Because I knew you'd look like _that_."

Shuichi closes his eyes and sighs, forcing himself to calm. Akemi was safe. Furuya and himself both had made sure of that. And right now, what he really cared about was-

"Furuya-kun, I care for Akemi deeply," Shuichi tells him, and a bitter smile twists up Furuya's lips.

"I know. I'm telling you that I don't care," Furuya says flatly.

Shuichi is already shaking his head. "You're misunderstanding. I care for her, yes. I see her in a romantic way, no."

Furuya scoffs. "I find that hard to believe."

And well, clearly Furuya does or else he wouldn't have begged Shuichi to _pretend_ to love him, as if it were a given that Shuichi couldn't love him for real. He needs to choose his words carefully here.

(There's a niggling thought in his mind suggesting just why Furuya finds it so hard to believe.

It's a thought that _Shuichi_ doesn't want to believe.)

"When Akemi and I started our relationship again," he begins slowly, "Past the first week or two, it was rough."

"You always said it was going well, at least until after I faked my death," Furuya says, unimpressed.

Shuichi shakes his head again. "I just didn't want to admit it, especially when I thought you were looking for weaknesses. But I got distracted during our dinners, missed meetups…"

"I'm aware of your failings as a lover," Furuya snarks, and Shuichi lets out a long sigh.

"Just listen, please, Furuya-kun," he almost pleads, and to his small surprise Furuya shuts his mouth. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he continues, "I was always too distracted when I spent time with Akemi. When I spent time with you, though, I- you made me forget that you were an Organization operative." He chuckles, a fond smile spreading on his face. "I watched a movie with you, and I just found it _fun_."

He recalls sitting in a car with Akemi, remembers her sad look he hadn't understood at the time, and murmurs - "I think I was already half in love then, and Akemi saw it long before I did."

Furuya is shaking his head, eyes wide, even a touch panicked. "You can't be serious."

Shuichi meets Furuya's eyes steadily - he feels his expression softening to an embarrassing extent, but finds he doesn't care.

"I'm very serious," Shuichi says calmly. "I love _you_ , Furuya-kun."

At those words, Furuya jerks back as if struck.

Shuichi raises an eyebrow and comments, drily, "Did you think that I let just anyone sleep with me?"

"No, but, well," Furuya coughs and straightens himself up primly. "I _am_ quite attractive."

The amused laugh escapes Shuichi's mouth despite himself. He brings his left hand up to lace through Furuya's hair and smiles as Furuya meets his eyes with hesitant, tentative hope.

"That alone isn't enough for me," Shuichi informs him. His eyes flicker down to Furuya's lips, and god, he wants to kiss him, but there's something else he needs to make clear first.

A niggling thought he wanted to ignore.

If Akemi had died in the original timeline, if Furuya hadn't been married to her - then there was still someone else Furuya could've married that would explain his behaviour. Explain his fixation on Shuichi's relationship with Akemi, explain the jealousy. Explain how his _wife_ could tell him that _she_ would be in love with someone else forever without Furuya caring enough to take back the proposal.

(It was so easy to idealize the dead.)

"Furuya-kun, what exactly was our relationship in the future?" asks Shuichi.

"I told you we were close friends, didn't I?" Furuya hedges, his eyes flickering downwards.

"I can believe that," says Shuichi with a shrug. He gives Furuya a cool look. "But was that _all_ we were to each other?"

Furuya is silent for a beat, two - "No."

"No?" Shuichi repeats.

His grip tightens on Shuichi's back, as if he were afraid Shuichi was going to leave, and he feels a little bad for pushing. But it's something he needs to know, if they're going to be doing this.

"We were married, in everything but the law," Furuya admits finally.

There's something bright and cheery and warm blooming in Shuichi's chest. He feels almost intoxicated as he leans in, presses his forehead against Furuya's, and smiles.

He can see the hope in Furuya's eyes growing, and it just makes his smile widen.

"Marriage would be a bit of a jump," Shuichi says with a laugh. "But I would very much like to try being your lover."

Furuya stares at him for a second with wide eyes.

Then there's lips - a bit chapped - pressing against his own, and Shuichi supposes he can take that as a yes.

* * *

A couple hours later that night, they're lying together in bed, Furuya pressed against him as his fingers trace patterns against Shuichi's back.

They're supposed to be getting to sleep, finally, but instead Furuya mutters, "You know I'm not a good person, right?"

Shuichi doesn't bother to deny it, because while he might love Furuya, might even think there's plenty to admire about him, he doesn't think Furuya a good man. But it didn't matter, really, because…

"Neither am I."

"...I never did tell you what happened with Vermouth, did I," Furuya says quietly.

"Which time?" he asks drily.

"The most recent time. To get information about Rum," answers Furuya, a touch snippish.

Granted, yes, he probably could've guessed which time, Shuichi's decided he's going to avoid assumptions and guesswork when it comes to Furuya for the foreseeable future.

"If you want to talk about it, I'll listen," Shuichi says, trying for encouraging.

Furuya's silent for a small while, then - "I said she had the tools to get the information she needed. The main 'tool' she had was a man who supposedly had information, tied up and bloody on a chair in her hotel suite."

Shuichi's eyes widen. He hadn't expected that, though in retrospect it made sense.

"You tortured him," he states, only for Furuya to swat his back with a scowl.

"No, I didn't," corrects Furuya irritably. "Torture tends to be unhelpful. People tell you want they think _you_ want to hear, not what they actually know."

"Ah," Shuichi says shortly, letting out a self-conscious cough. This was why he needed to keep to his vow to avoid assumptions when it came to Furuya.

"I might as well have, though," Furuya mutters, "I found out his family - facial recognition is so good nowadays, if you know what keywords to use to filter - and found out he had a little brother going to middle school in Tokyo. He didn't know I was PSB, as far as he knew I was a criminal, same as Vermouth. So when I told him with a smile that if he didn't tell us something useful, little Itsuki-kun would go bye-bye, he spilled everything Vermouth wanted to know."

"It was kinder than torture," Shuichi offers, and Furuya scoffs.

"Was it? Really?" he counters, then shakes his head and sighs. "That wasn't the issue though. The issue was that after he told us everything he knew - Vermouth pressed a gun into my hand and told me to kill him if I wanted her information."

"What did you do?" asks Shuichi carefully.

"I didn't kill him. I shoved the gun back into Vermouth's hand and told her I wouldn't." Furuya scoffs. "But what I did doesn't really matter."

"It doesn't?"

Furuya says quietly, "I would've killed him, Akai. If that had been the right answer."

"...Vermouth didn't want you to kill him," Shuichi guesses, and Furuya gives him a short nod.

"She still didn't trust I was out to get her for the Organization, not really," he says, eyes distant, "Even after I promised to protec- well, it doesn't matter. It was a test, an obvious test, and I knew I would pass it by refusing. So I refused. Not because it would be wrong to kill an innocent man - because it wouldn't be helpful."

He laughs, a sour expression on his face. "I didn't want to die myself, but I was willing to kill an innocent. I didn't want to die myself, but I sent out my subordinates to go die against Rum."

"I won't say that it's right," Shuichi says calmly, "But you had to think of the bigger picture. And even if you didn't _want_ to die, you were willing to. Just like your subordinates."

"Stop coddling me!" Furuya snaps, and all of a sudden the grip around Shuichi is all-too-tight. "I'm trying to tell you-"

"-I'm not sure what you're telling me," Shuichi cuts in, "But whatever it is, I don't care. I know what kind of person you are, Furuya-kun. What kind of person _I_ am, too. Anything you tell me won't change that."

The grip loosens, and Shuichi lets out a small, relieved breath.

"I never understood it, you know," says Furuya, looking lost. "Why you fell for me. I thought I did, I was so confident that I did, but I learned that was nothing but hubris when I proposed to you and the first words out of your mouth were, 'I love you, _but._ '"

"I can't speak for my alternate self," Shuichi answers slowly, "But for myself…"

He hesitates. He's never been the most eloquent person when it comes to things like this, but he has to hope what he has is enough.

If he really wanted to - he could list out all of Furuya's traits that Shuichi admired or loved. His top-tier intelligence, his loyalty to his country and its people, his skill as a boxer. But none of those things were really why Shuichi had fallen for him.

No, it was really just-

"It's comfortable around you."

"Excuse me?" Furuya sputters.

"You knew me as Rye, you know me as Akai Shuichi," Shuichi says with a smile. He brings a hand up to caress Furuya's cheek as he leans in to quickly press a kiss against Furuya's lips. He leans back. "I can just be myself and no matter how much you complain, you don't actually care, do you?"

A flush, pleasingly red, spreads across Furuya's face. "I- well." He scowls, though the effect is ruined by the blush on his face. "You didn't have to say that out loud."

"You asked," Shuichi deadpans.

"Yes, well." Furuya coughs, flush still going full-force, and buries his face into Shuichi's neck. Voice muffled, he says, "I like that I can be comfortable around you too, Akai."

And so Shuichi presses Furuya closer and smiles.

* * *

Later still that night, when Shuichi's almost dozed off to sleep-

"If I get sent back again, if I have to lose everything again, I don't think I'll be able to take it."

It's a quiet murmur, one Shuichi isn't entirely sure he's supposed to have heard. But it didn't matter.

He doesn't know why or how Furuya was sent back, though god that's something he wants to look into. So he can't say it wouldn't happen again, can't even promise that Furuya wouldn't lose him in the here and now any more than Furuya could. At any time, either of them could be shot by a criminal, or could be blown up, or hell, could choke to death on a chestnut.

But there is one thing he can promise.

(Furuya had done his best to push him towards Akemi, but Shuichi had just fallen for him again.)

"I think, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says quietly, "What happens twice, would happen thrice. No matter what you try to do about it."

Furuya laughs softly. "You're saying that I'm useless?"

"No," says Shuichi sharply, then composes himself. "I'm saying _some_ things might always happen regardless of your wishes."

"So you're saying I'm useless for _some_ things," Furuya says, and _no,_ that's not what he means, but Furuya doesn't sound sad, just terribly amused. Furuya continues, "It's alright, I think I understand what you're trying to say, Akai."

There's a small, comfortable silence before Furuya breathes, so very quietly - "Thank you."

* * *

It's awkward, sometimes, dating someone who knew so much more about you than you of them. It's difficult, having to deal with the fallout of mistakes made by someone who was you, and yet wasn't. Sometimes he wonders if he would've been better off not knowing.

But fights never affected how they felt about each other when they were just friends, and they don't affect how he feels now that they're something - well, _more_. Sometimes he just gets irritated, sometimes he gets genuinely angry, but at the end of the day it's _Furuya_ and Shuichi's anger dissipates sooner than later.

He's not sure if Furuya really believes that Shuichi doesn't still love Akemi, even as Furuya and Akemi meet again, as they grow friendly towards each other.

But it doesn't matter. Because regardless of what Furuya might think, Shuichi is in this for the long run.

And he'll stick by his side like a burr until Rei understands that too.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry again for not realizing I didn't crosspost! Again, I won't be posting on this site any longer, all my fics will be on AO3.**


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